An Act of Contrition
by Lucky Clarion
Summary: Bella Swan has been bullied since she started middle school. When tragedy rips her from her home, she is sent to live with her estranged mother. After she is accepted at UW, she faces her tormentors once more.
1. Chapter 1

**Hello! This is my first attempt at fanfiction. Constructive criticism is welcomed and appreciated. Enjoy!  
Rated M for language and future lemons.**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Twilight**

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_Loneliness is the most terrible poverty._  
- Mother Teresa of Calcutta

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"You know, Swan, if you actually watch where you're stepping, you would be eating your lunch instead of wearing it." Edward Cullen, the bane of my existence. Of course he would trip me and blame it on my clumsiness. I'm so glad that I have an extra change of clothes in my locker; it happens at least twice a week, so I anticipated this.

"I think she's a little thirsty," said Jasper Whitlock, Edward's best friend and public enemy number two, second to Edward. He proceeded to pour his full bottle of soda on my head, before trailing down my neck, down my back, then finally stopping at my ass. He looked a little guilty, so he held out a hand indicating that he wanted to help me up. I tentatively reached for it. When his grip was stronger, I let him help me. However, I didn't anticipate Jasper letting go of me halfway up. I slipped on the caramel-colored soda and landed on my shoulder, my head hitting the ground with a sickening crack. The entire cafeteria erupted in laughter at my fall, no doubt thinking one word: clumsy. Their jeering and laughter added emotional pain to my physical one. I have lived with this ridicule for a little over three years and I've never been hurt or cried until now. It was one thing to soil my clothes with their lunches, and an entirely different thing to hurt me on purpose.

The cafeteria was in an uproar when I ran out of there, my face wet with tears as insults and more laughter flew my way. Turning the corner, I stopped dead in my tracks. My locker was wide open, and on the floor were the pieces of my back-up clothes.

"I did you a favor; those pieces of fabric you call clothing were ugly." I spun around at the voice. There, standing in all her wicked glory, was Rosalie Hale, the ice queen. She was holding a pair of black scissors, smirking at me. My silent tears gave way to broken sobs. This was getting to be too much to handle; my clothes were still drenched, my skin was sticky, shoulder was aching, and I was fighting dizziness from hitting my head. After an about face, I ran at lightening speed towards the library. I grabbed my belongings and ran out of there like a bat out of hell. Before I reached the school's front doors, I bumped into Alice Cullen. She's the only one of the popular kids that _was_ (past tense) actually nice to me. She used to sit and talk with me at lunch when I started sixth grade, but after three months she stopped speaking to me and barely acknowledged my existence (just small smiles when she thought nobody was looking). I guess she realized that she didn't want loser friends, especially one with a nickname like "Ugly Duckling." Like I said, "she was nice." But, after the day I've had, I couldn't find it in myself to be polite. She clutched my upper arms, keeping me from doing a face plant; she may be five foot nothing, but she's strong as hell.

"Let me go!" I yelled at her, tears still streaming down my face.

"Bella, what happened? Are you okay?" The look on her face was one of concern, but again, it's been a horrible day.

"Please," I whispered, my vision blurred, "I just want to go home." Desperation was seeping into my voice. She nodded and let go. I ran all the way home, it was miraculous that I didn't trip.

The events that took place later that day turned a bad day into my worst nightmare.

As soon as I got home, I threw myself in the shower. After I scrubbed myself clean for twenty minutes, I got dressed, took an Excedrin for the headache, and fell into bed. I must have been more tired than I thought because the red numbers on my alarm clock read 6:45, I've been asleep for five hours!

I made my way to the kitchen to cook dinner. Charlie would be home in fifteen minutes; he was a creature of habit, always in the door by seven o'clock. I decided on steaks and mashed potatoes. By the time I was done, it was already 7:05. I figured he must have gotten caught up with paperwork because frankly, it's not like there were weekly hostage negotiations and high speed chases in Forks. I put his plate in the oven to keep it warm and mine in the fridge; I didn't have much of an appetite. I haven't had much of a desire for food for a while; my weight was slowly declining and Dad's ever watchful eye was noticing. I usually ate a small breakfast that consisted of a cereal bar or fruit and some juice because I stayed in bed until the last possible minute before I had to get ready for school. I skipped lunch on most days because I did not want to walk past the assholes at their self-proclaimed popular table. By the time dinnertime rolled around, I only ate enough so I wouldn't alert Dad's suspicions. I just wasn't hungry.

At 8:00, the doorbell rang. I prayed to any god out there that it wouldn't be Alice. I wasn't in the mood for apologies, especially since it wasn't her fault, or a pity party. But, as soon as I opened the door, I wished it was Alice come to torture me with her arsenal of beauty products, just like when I was in fifth grade.

"I'm sorry, Bella."

Once again, tears distorted my eyesight as it came down in streams. I shook my head, mumbling "no" over and over. My legs gave out, causing Officer James Fitzgerald to lunge forward to catch me before I fell. I turned my head to bury my face into his chest. Charlie was hit by a drunk driver and is currently en route to the hospital in critical condition.

I don't remember the hospital, but I do remember trying to fight my way into the operating room. Apparently, my behavior warranted sedation because I woke up in a hospital bed, high as a fucking kite with a piece of cotton stuck to my arm. There was a needle attached to my hand that connected to an IV bag on my left side, Renee was on my right. She informed me that they kept me sedated because I would throw a tantrum and hurt myself every time I woke up. She told me that I will be living with her in Phoenix after the funeral next week, which she was taking care of. All I could do was stare, I didn't even have enough energy to nod, let alone speak. Even through my drug induced euphoria, I could feel the sadness and despair leaking into my consciousness.

I went through the following week like an extra from _Night Of The Living Dead_. I spent most of my time in bed staring off into space. Renee once found me curled up in Dad's bed clutching his favorite flannel shirt. If it wasn't for Renee force feeding me, I would have died from starvation and thirst, not that I cared. Arrangements were being made, the house was being packed up and put on the market, fourteen years of my life was packed up in ten boxes. All of Dad's things: furniture, clothing, and personal belongings, were going to be kept in a storage facility in Phoenix until I decided what I wanted to do with them.

The day of the funeral, the whole town was there, even the jerks who made me feel like I was pathetic and unworthy of anyone's attention. Before the casket was to be closed for the last time, I placed the brown bear I got him for Father's Day this year, it was wearing a blue shirt that read "World's Best Father" in black script. I didn't hear anything from the service; the pastor's words, the eulogy, and condolences were just a low hum in my ears. I didn't even feel the hugs that were supposed to be comforting because I felt numb. I stood there, in the church cemetery, watching the white rose-topped black casket being lowered into the ground; the final resting place of the man I thought was invincible - my protector, my Daddy. I stood motionless as the cemetery groundskeeper filled the hole with dirt.

Renee reluctantly left me when I wouldn't budge, so she could play hostess to the guests at the reception. I walked forward, clutching a bunch of pink peonies, just like the ones he gave me on my birthdays. I lied down on the grass beside his grave, still holding onto the bouquet for dear life.

I don't know how long I stayed there, but it started getting dark. I didn't care; there was no way I was leaving my father here.

"Bella?" It was him, the voice that taunted me in my dreams and in real life, Edward Cullen. "Bella, it's almost seven o'clock and it's freezing out here." Is it? I didn't notice.

When I didn't answer, he moved closer to me, wrapping his jacket across my body. I shrugged it off. "Bella, come on, you're freezing. Your lips are starting to turn blue." I still didn't make any motions to rise from my place. He scooped me up, bridal style, as if I weighed nothing - I probably didn't weigh much.

"Put me down! Don't touch me! Just let me stay here!" I screeched. I fought against him with everything I had, which wasn't much. I eventually gave up and started sobbing into his chest. He held me and kissed my forehead; trying to soothe this ache I felt throughout my body, physical and mental.

"It's gonna be okay," he whispered, lowering us to the ground. My temper flared to dangerous heights.

"How is it supposed to be okay?! The only person who ever truly cared about me is gone!" I yelled, fresh tears prickling my eyes. "WHY?! WHY HIM?! He was the best person anyone knew and the best dad anyone could ever hope to ask for! God must really hate me; he makes my life a living hell, then takes away the one person who could make it all better!" By the end of this tirade I was blubbering mess.

We sat on the ground and held onto each other for a while. I broke the silence when I whispered, "It should have been me. I'd give up my life for his any day. It's not like many people would miss me; the only one who would be suffering is Dad, but even then he has friends to help him through it."

"Bella… I'm so sorry," he whispered right back. He looked as though he was struggling with something. He opened his mouth to speak again but was cut off by another voice.

"Isabella? We have to get to the airport, honey," Renee called from the distance.

I disentangled myself from Edward's arms and went to sit to the side of my father's headstone. I kissed it after I made a silent prayer for him to rest in peace. I stood up and laid the peonies on top of his grave marker. I whispered, "Goodbye, Daddy. I love you forever and I'll miss you so, so much." More tears escaped me. I wiped them away and turned to see Edward still standing there with tears running down his beautiful face. With one last look at Edward and Dad's grave, I turned and walked towards Renee. I dreaded leaving Charlie behind because I had a feeling I wouldn't be stepping in Forks, let alone Washington, for a very a long time. The only thing left for me were bittersweet memories; the happy ones were marred by miserable school recollections of the past three years.

***

It's been almost four years since his death, and I haven't stepped foot in Washington since I left the Sea-Tac Airport, until now. I've been accepted to the University of Washington on a full ride scholarship. Renee and Phil were hesitant to let me go back to Washington, especially because it's so close to home. However, when they relented, thanks to the pride that came with earning an opportunity like that, Renee insisted I get my own apartment. She said something about wild dorm parties being distracting and communal bathrooms being "icky."

"Flight attendants, please prepare for landing."

As soon as the carts were locked into place and they were certain all the passengers had their seatbelts on, the flight attendants took their seats and we began our descent.

As soon as we were below the clouds, I looked out of my first class window at the wet city below us. My ears began to pop, indicating that our altitude was dropping. We touched down at the Sea-Tac Airport and fear began to trickle into my awareness. What was I thinking coming here all alone? I took deep breaths, just like my therapist taught me, and calmed myself down. I needed to be strong for my father; he would have been so proud that I earned this scholarship.

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My apartment turned out to be a huge condo and it was already set up, courtesy of Renee and Sophia, my fourteen-year-old half-sister. My black Audi S5 was supposed to be sitting in my parking spot already. I have a little less than a month to familiarize myself with my new home without any preoccupations; classes start in the third week of September. Renee and Phil forbade me from working, claiming it was an unnecessary diversion and thrust a Visa bank car into my hands - spending money; it was another requirement for their agreement. My monthly allowance is three-thousand dollars, which they have no problems affording; Phil just renewed his contract with the Arizona Cardinals and Renee got her promotion at the PR firm she was working for. This allowance is extravagant and ridiculous when you think about it. School related expenses are covered by my scholarship, my car is paid off and insurance taken care of, and the condo is bought and paid for. Utilities and food alone wouldn't put a dent into my excessive bank account.

I called Renee to let her know I made it to Seattle in one piece and thanked her for everything she and Phil have done for me. After she promised they would fly out for Thanksgiving weekend, we said our goodbyes and hung up.

I decided to forgo dinner in favor of knocking out in my plush, dark purple Egyptian cotton sheets on my four-post king-sized bed. Renee really went all out. Over the years, she's been constantly buying things for me. I think she feels guilty for abandoning Dad and I, only to have me come back into her life because I had nowhere else to go. The only contact we've had with her after she left were Christmas and birthday cards, which usually came with a generous amount of money. Dad started a savings account for me with Renee's checks; it was to be used for college. Since I don't need it, the money is sitting in my savings account collecting interest.

I released the clasp on my gold locket and put it safely into the frosted glass jewelry box. It was my fourteenth birthday, Dad gave me a jewelry box and a bouquet of pink peonies. Inside the box was a beautiful antique locket that belonged to my great-grandmother. I opened it up and found a picture of my dad on one side and a picture of Renee on the other, I knew he stilled loved her and didn't want me to forget her.

Explorations will have to wait until tomorrow. Right now, I'm dead tired from thinking too much. I was asleep by the time my head hit the feather-soft pillow.

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**There you have it, my first chapter. Let me know how I'm doing =)**


	2. Chapter 2

**You guys ROCK! I was very pleased... oh hell... I was _so f***ing happy_ when I saw the response to the first chapter! You girls (and guys?) make me feel so loved =D  
****A HUGE thank you to those who reviewed, I truly appreciate it.**

**Disclaimer: Don't own Twilight. You can't see me right now, but I'm pouting.**

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_The doors we open and close each day decide the lives we live._  
-Flora Whittemore

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I woke up at nine the next morning, more exhausted than when I went to sleep. I haven't been able to sleep well since the accident, but the pitter patter of rain against my window left me tossing and turning throughout the night; it reminded me of Forks.

My new home is located in the Escala building in Downtown Seattle. I'm not very real estate savvy here, but I'm pretty sure Renee and Phil paid a lot of money for this condo. I thought the cab driver took me to the wrong address; it looked like an upscale hotel, rather than a residence. From what I saw yesterday it's a very beautiful and lively neighborhood, there were restaurants, boutique shops, chain stores, and offices everywhere. I arrived around five in the afternoon on a Saturday, so there were people wandering around, walking in and out of stores and socializing in the restaurants.

I'm sure there's a café or restaurant somewhere in this building, but I need to get out of here and explore my surroundings for a bit. I've been asleep for almost fifteen hours and I still need a caffeine jolt… maybe a little food, too.

I got up and stumbled towards my en-suite bathroom. What I saw when I walked in blew me away. Jeez, where the hell do I live? The Playboy Mansion? This bathroom is huge! There was an infinity tub on the floor opposite of the door, I can do two cartwheels just to get there. To the left stood a shower stall big enough to fit four people comfortably. On my right, at the entrance of the bathroom, was a vanity with a long horizontal mirror on the wall. On it was a couple different perfumes, MAC and Urban Decay makeup and brushes, and hair appliances and salon-worthy products. A few feet from that is a sink and faucet without a vanity, a mirrored medicine cabinet and a toilet. With a bathroom like this, I half-expected the toilet to be a diamond encrusted, platinum throne - glad I was wrong.

After the initial shock wore off, I climbed into the shower and turned it on. The water came down like rainfall; straight from the ceiling. I think it would have more novelty if this wasn't Seattle. But, I understand the appeal of it, it's like playing in the rain without the freezing temperatures. I can definitely learn to love it. The steam coupled with the colors in the bathroom made it feel very spa-like, relaxing. After shampooing and conditioning with Frederic Fekkai hair products and washing up with a French exfoliating body wash, I stepped out and wrapped a soft, green towel around my body. After a little dental hygiene and skincare, I decided to blow dry my hair, leaving it straight and glossy. My makeup would consist of mascara, eyeliner, and gloss; I followed up with a spritz of Chanel Chance.

Walking over to my closet in the bedroom, I wondered what other surprises awaited me; perhaps she took it upon herself to supplement my wardrobe with some new pieces. I opened the door expecting a normal walk-in, but the vision in front of me rendered me speechless. My closet was a whole other room! The walls were lined with clothing racks - hangers and clothes already included, drawers full of intimates that made me blush, sleepwear, shirts, socks, and a section with over forty pairs of shoes ranging from athletic to casual to dressy. But, she purposely left out a staple in my wardrobe - Converse Chuck Taylors, she said I needed variety. There was column in the middle of the room with drawers and cabinets on three sides. On the fourth side there was a full length mirror with a gilded frame that kind of matched the design on my locket. The other three sides held all kinds of accessories, jewelry, and bags. In one of the drawers was a shoebox with and big red bow on top, it held a new pair of black and white chucks. Sophia was always the thoughtful one.

I decided on gray Lucky Brand skinny jeans, a white Free People thermal with a studded cuff, and a black military pea coat. I finished it off with high-heeled black booties from Gucci. I grabbed a white purse to transfer my BlackBerry, keys, makeup, and wallet from the black bag I was currently using. Everything in this closet was designer, from the underwear to the belts. My mother was such a label snob. As for me, I couldn't care less if my purse came from Wal-Mart or on Rodeo Drive. But, I guess if she has the money, she can spend it however she wants.

At least some good came out of her love affair with labels; I achieved some semblance of self-esteem. My physical appearance changed about six months after I moved to Arizona. More people took notice of me because of what I was wearing, it also didn't hurt that my step-father is a wide receiver for the Cardinals. For the first time since fifth grade, I had friends. I can't say that I liked that they noticed my clothes first, but my three best friends were real - they liked me for me, and not for who I was wearing. Angela, Tanya, Kate, and I were attached at the hip. We laughed through all the stupid things and they cried with me on the anniversaries of Dad's death while I recounted some of my favorite memories. We comforted each other from broken hearts and often threatening to castrate the bastard who was responsible for it. Now we were hundreds, even thousands, of miles away from each other. Angela was accepted to Columbia, Tanya is going to Northwestern, and Kate opted to stay in Phoenix to go to a vocational school; she wants to be a registered nurse.

I walked to my bedside table and returned the locket to its rightful place around my neck.

On my way out I grabbed a black umbrella with an ivory-colored handle. After asking the front desk about the nearest grocery store, I took the elevator to the garage. I noticed that my car was sandwiched between a white Porsche Cayenne and a blue Audi RS4. I reconnected the negative part of the battery under the hood my car, just like Phil told me, and set off for an adventure.

Thankfully, I made it to the store without getting lost. I was tempted to stock my kitchen with frozen foods because I have no idea how to cook for one person, but I'd probably get tired of Hot Pockets and frozen pizzas after a week. I picked up everything that looked appealing; from spices and fresh foods to frozen foods and processed snacks. After grabbing everything I wanted, especially ten bags of Folgers Chocolate Truffle coffee and some hazelnut creamer, I booked it - being around all this food is making me hungry and I still needed coffee.

I was excited to find a Target, so I went inside in search of DVDs, board games, video games, anything to entertain me. I ended up picking out a few movies that were just released. I found _Confessions of a Shopaholic_ and decided that it would be a great gift to send to Renee - though I'll probably just buy it online. I wandered around the store for a while, picking up junk food as I went. I realized that I wanted ice cream when I was staring at it through the clear freezer door. I picked up a large coffee and a coffee cake from Starbucks on my way out, it was inside of the store. In every city I've been to, I felt like there was a Starbucks on every freaking corner. Ever hear of overkill?

When I got home, there was a black Range Rover in my parking space. I huffed, then turned the wheel to park between the RS4 and a cinderblock wall. There wasn't that much room; the jerk parked way too close to the line, which in turn made me park so close to the wall that I couldn't open up the passenger side door without scratching it!

I opened my trunk and cursed out loud. This is a total "Fuck My Life" moment! How the hell am I supposed to get all these groceries up to the twenty-ninth floor? One bag at a time, that's how. Looks like I'll be acquainting myself with the elevator. Considering my upper body strength and the amount of the full plastic bags sitting in my trunk, I estimated it to be about nine trips, five up, four down. Fuuuuuck, that's a lot; I'm getting tired just thinking about it. I'll have to remember to buy a hand truck or a dolly or something. When I got up to the condo, I took off my boots and changed into a pair of Rainbow Sandals.

Forty-five minutes later on my eighth and final trip upstairs, I saw someone I thought I'd never see again, Alice Cullen. While I closed my trunk and locked up, she started to open her own trunk of the Porsche next to me. Oh. Shit. I was hoping she didn't see me. But, this being my life and my luck, she did. She was looking right at me. I considered playing stupid, but I'm the worst actress in the world.

"Hi, Bella, I was wondering when I'd get to see you," she had a big smile on her face.

"Alice? Wow…Uh... How did you know I'd be here?" Was she stalking me or something? That's a little creepy.

"I talked to your… sister? I didn't know you had one. I met her a couple weeks ago and she said you were moving in."

"Sophia is my half-sister and she didn't tell me that she met you," I accused as gently as I can.

"Oh, yeah… I didn't mention my name. She just said that her sister, was moving in. She called you Bells. I saw Renee, although she didn't recognize me, and put two and two together. How have you been since…?" Alice asked cautiously. Would you like the unabridged version or the watered down one?

"I've been really good actually. I was accepted to UW and I live in a nice condo," I know that's not what she was fishing for, but I'm not that comfortable sharing that information with her just yet.

She gave me a small smile, "You know I'm always here for you, right?" I fought the urge to roll my eyes. Sure, just like she was there for me before she abandoned me, right? But, I just nodded and returned her smile. There was no need to get catty on my second day here.

"I better get back upstairs, this bag has my ice cream in it." And I couldn't wait to dive into Ben & Jerry's Chunky Monkey ice cream. Heaven on a spoon.

"Oh yeah, I'm sorry for keeping you. I just wanted to know if you could come over to my place for dinner tonight. Everybody would be excited to see you." Great, they're scheming right now, aren't they? Were they strategizing ways to make me cry?

"Nobody knows you're here, I wanted it to be a surprise," Alice said. Well, there goes my answer.

"Does everybody include Edward, Jasper and Rosalie?" I asked just for clarification. I'm honestly not scared of them anymore, I just don't feel like rehashing my old humiliations. I can just imagine it… the night would be filled with, "Hey, remember that time when Bella…"

"Yes, but I swear they've all changed, Bella. The accident was eye-opening… and they've… they're just not the same people anymore. I know the terrible trio would like a chance to apologize… you don't even have to accept it," she added quickly.

Carmen Murphy, my therapist, would have told me to go for it. She would have convinced me that I needed this for closure; I found myself silently agreeing with her. This was my chance to finally put that chapter of my life behind me, there was no way I was giving it up. "Sure, Alice. When and where?"

Alice's smile was exultant, "Seven o'clock sharp, we live across the hall from each other."

Ugh, of course we do. Great. "Should I bring anything?" I asked.

"Just yourself." And maybe a can of pepper spray, I added in my head. I nodded and smiled.

On my way up I felt my heartbeat increase, my breathing was starting to get labored, and I felt like I was going to throw up. Am I really ready for this? It's been four years; I should be over it by now. I argued with myself for a long time, mentally listing the pros and cons while putting away my groceries. Alice lives across the hall from me, so it's safe to assume that the others would be there often. It's also safe to assume that I will bump into them frequently. I could become a hermit, and only leave the house for classes and grocery shopping. But, even with all the entertainment set up in the living room, I'll suffer from cabin fever sooner or later. My mind was made up, I'm facing them whether I like it or not.

At five-thirty, my doorbell rang - it was a sheepish looking Alice. Ooohhh crap, what happened?

"So, I kind of messed up dinner, but no worries I have a back up plan! We can go out to eat!" And set myself up for public embarrassment? I think not. I was about to offer an alternative, but my curious side won out and wanted to know what happened.

"How did you mess it up? What were you cooking?"

"Ok… Well… See, I figured that if I just put the lasagna in at a higher temperature and less time I would have enough time to do the garlic toast, make chocolate chip cookies and get ready. But, the oven started smoking and I panicked. Now the dough is on the kitchen floor, half the garlic toast is in the sink... Aaaaanndd... I'm also a little scared to use the oven again."

"Oh, that's…" I couldn't hold it in anymore, I started laughing. Alice pouted and crossed her arms in front of her. "Why don't you guys just come to my place for dinner. I'll whip up something simple. Breaded salmon and chocolate soufflé sound good to you?" I avoided a public appearance and now I have home court advantage; I know where all the knives are kept. Plus, I can show off my exceptional cooking skills and rub it in their faces.

"You can make that?" She was surprised. She probably thought that the only people who can make those things were the ones with their own time slots on the Food Network. I laughed lightly, then nodded.

"Why don't you go get cleaned up and I'll get started on dinner. See you at seven," I called out to her as she walked to her door. She turned around said okay.

Now, I need to get dinner ready and keep myself from hyperventilating. I put my hair in a bun and put on a black and white apron that looked like a dress. While preparing the salmon, it reminded me of the time when Dad experimented with this recipe with trout. After getting it into the oven, he plopped down in his favorite recliner and turned his attention to the first quarter of the football game. He was so caught up in it that he didn't hear the timer go off. When he did remember that he was cooking something, it was already the close of the fourth quarter. I would have reminded him… if he told me about it; he wanted it to be a surprise. We ended up eating at the diner that night and Dad presented me with a gift when we got home, a blue Sony Vaio. It was for when I started highschool in September. I gave him a big hug and thanked him repeatedly because I know that this must have set him back. He just smiled at me and told me I deserved so much more.

A lone tear escaped me at the memory. I shook my head and decided that I needed to pay attention before _my_ dinner turns out like Charlie's. I chose to make a simple green salad tossed with chicken strips, mandarin oranges, slivered almonds, raw ramen noodles, and cherry tomatoes mixed with a sesame and ginger dressing. The soufflé would taste better right out of the oven, so I elected to put it in during dinner. It will also give me something to do when conversation is stilted or if I felt uncomfortable.

Before I knew it, the clock read 6:33. After getting the salmon out of the oven and setting the table, I went to my room to change. I pulled on a pair of dark wash CK jeans, a flowing, white, tunic tank top from Anthropologie and some gray, soft leather peep-toe flats. I pulled my hair from the bun and touched up my makeup.

The doorbell rang at seven. I could already feel a bubble of terror getting bigger, consuming everything I have accomplished in the past four years, and reverting myself back to that reclusive and insecure child before doomsday. I can either pretend I'm not home and hide, or face my demons like a responsible adult. I did a quick breathing exercise to keep myself from falling over the edge and into a panic attack before deciding to open the door.

Alice, Emmett, and the Three Musketeers from Hell stood in the hallway looking like they stepped off the cover of _Vogue_. The guys were in a deep discussion about football. Rosalie was leaning up against the opposite wall by Alice's door looking at her nails, her stance and face were the epitome of sheer and utter boredom. Alice was standing right in front of me with a mega-watt smile on her small face.

"Hi, Bella. Thank you for inviting us over tonight. I'm sorry things didn't go according to plan," she started out enthusiastically and ending quietly with embarrassment. As soon as my name left her lips, my peripheral vision caught the movement of four heads whipping around to look at me.

"It's no problem, Alice. I love to cook." Only half of that statement was true. I could feel their gazes on me, penetrating my skin like red hot pokers. The attention was making my confidence start to crumble and I could feel my temperature start to rise. I felt like I just walked into a sauna wearing a winter coat and two pairs of sweatpants. However, the ever-present blush spreading across my cheeks was the only indication that I was nervous. I looked up at each of their faces, trying and failing to avoid eye contact. Jasper and Emmett looked shocked, Rosalie looked determined, and Edward's expression puzzled me most of all; he looked like somebody just kicked his puppy. I really hope Alice was correct when she told me that they've changed. Dinner would go so much smoother if they have and I wouldn't be forced to hurt anyone tonight. I like my condo and will be very unhappy to see my carpet and wood floors stained with blood.

Well, there's no turning back now. "Hi, guys. Come on in, dinner's ready," I said with a forced smile plastered on my lips, as I opened my door wider to let them in.

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**A/N: The football game Charlie was watching was in the preseason (in August), just in case anybody was wondering about the timeline.  
The part where Bella reconnects her battery: If your car would be lying dormant for a long period of time, then you have to disconnect the negative charge of the battery. This keeps it from draining said battery.**

**A bit long and a lot less drama, but this chapter sets everything up for future ones, I promise. Next chapter: EPOV, the day of the cafeteria incident :)**

**-Luckky-**

**Review please!**


	3. Chapter 3

**Hi! Here is chapter 3 in Edward's point of view, just like I promised.  
Thank you, once again, to those who reviewed and those who have this story on alert! They make feel all warm and fuzzy =)  
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**Don't own Twilight. Sigh, so sad.**

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_We must all suffer from one of two pains: the pain of discipline or the pain of regret. The difference is discipline weighs ounces while regret weighs tons._  
- Jim Rohn

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I feel like I've been run over by a bus, then dragged for a mile by a big rig truck. Football practice ran from ten in the morning until seven last night. Coach Sarkisian had a fight with his wife and took it out on us. Prick.

After lathering it up underneath the spray of a hot shower, I dressed for a day of leisure; meaning I threw on black pajama pants and a gray Washington Huskies t-shirt. I found Alice in the kitchen rolling dough into little balls. There was something already baking in the oven and garlic toast was laid out in a cookie sheet on top of the stove. What the hell does she think she's doing? She can't cook for shit; the last time she tried resulted in a trip to the ER because her pork chops weren't cooked as thoroughly as she thought. I shudder to think what disasters would arise from this attempt. Maybe I should just go out for dinner with the guys on the team tonight.

"Hey, where's Em?" I asked. He should be keeping an eye on her.

"Gym. Are you just getting up? It's almost five o'clock," Alice said incredulously.

"Well, I'm sorry that I can't spend my days relaxing at the spa and going shopping," I said sarcastically. "Coach Sark ran us into the ground yesterday. And what the hell are you doing? I can't get food poisoning again, I have practice in tomorrow. I'm just gonna get some fast food for dinner."

"That was one time, get over it! I'm baking a store bought frozen lasagna, so don't even start. We have a guest coming over tonight," She replied with a smile, one that I knew too well; she was hiding something. If this is another one of her plans to hook me up with one someone, she has another thing coming. She didn't exactly approve of my last three girlfriends, so she took it upon herself to find a decent one and they were usually boring. It's not that my exes were sluts or anything, they just didn't have much going on upstairs and were rude to Alice. She was the one with all the nasty comments, so I don't know what her problem is.

"Does this guest have a pussy or a cock?" I asked with raised eyebrows.

"Ugh, you're disgusting. Our guest is female and no I'm not trying to hook you two up if that's what you were thinking; she's our new neighbor across the hall, so be nice! I really want her as a friend."

So that's who the Audi belonged to. "Yeah, yeah, yeah," I said walking out of the kitchen. I searched for the remote and dropped onto the white cushions of our sofa in the living room. After flipping through all the channels, I settled on _The Boondock Saints_. When they were at the part in the movie where they fall from the ceiling, I heard a high-pitched squeal followed by metal clanging: Alice. I knew it was a bad idea to leave her unattended in the kitchen. I rushed in, prepared to put out a fire, when I slipped on something that sent me flat on my back.

"Damn, Alice! What the fuck!" I said surveying the damage as I got up. There was smoke rising from the lasagna on top of a flat box sitting on the stove, the garlic toast was scattered across the counter, and the sheet holding the cookie dough was on the floor, along with the dough. So that's what I slipped on. A cloud of smoke was swirling around the high ceiling.

"Sorry," she whispered like a little girl in trouble. "The oven was smoking and I panicked. I opened the door to take it out, but I had to move the garlic bread because the lasagna was too hot to carry anywhere else."

"Wait a minute… did you put the box in the oven?!" I asked, more like shouted, when I took another look at the lasagna, the box looked burnt.

"Well, we only had two cookie sheets and they were already in use. I thought it would be fine, it's not like there's a real fire in the oven."

"Alice…" I pinched the bridge of my nose, it was a habit of mine when I was dealing with stress.

"Do you want to know what happened or not?" When I didn't respond, she continued.

"I put the pan with the bread down on the counter with one hand and grabbed the dish towel because I couldn't find the oven mitt. The towel was caught under the cookies so when I yanked on it the whole pan flew halfway across the kitchen. I tried to catch it, but I bumped into the garlic bread. More smoke started coming out of the oven, so I got the lasagna out as fast as I could. Then you came in. The end."

"Never again, Alice, never again. The only things you may operate is the toaster and microwave." She rolled her eyes at me and muttered "whatever."

"At least you get your wish, we're going out tonight. I just have to tell Be- Beth."

"I'm gonna go shower… again. Take care of the mess."

"Yeah, fine, whatever," she said walking away from me.

Alice was already sitting in the living room, daydreaming, when I got done dressing. "Where are we eating tonight? I'm kind of in the mood for steak," I said. She jumped at my voice.

"Dang, a little warning when you come into the room would be nice. We're going to Be- Beth's place at seven; she offered to cook."

"Why do you keep stuttering? How are you supposed to be friends with this girl when you can't even remember her name?" I asked, laughing.

"Because… Just… I… Shut up!"

The sound of the front door opening followed by a booming voice indicated that our big brother was home from the gym.

"Alice! What did you do now?" Emmett yelled from the door, no doubt smelling the smoke.

"Why are you assuming it's my fault?! It could have been Edward, you know," she yelled back. We got up and met Em in the kitchen.

"Because Edward is smart enough to know not to turn on the oven. And what the fuck happened to the kitchen?"

***

It was nearly seven o'clock, the chaos caused by Hurricane Alice was cleaned up and we were waiting for Jasper and Rose.

"Why are we waiting for those two anyway, she's _our_ neighbor." I was a little irritable and just wanted some dinner; the only thing I had to eat the whole day was half of the last apple. Alice came by and took it away from me because it was going to ruin my appetite. Controlling, Nazi midget.

"Because they're here a lot and if I'm going to be friends with Be- th, then I want her to be comfortable around them. Now, will you just stop asking questions? I just got a text from Rose, they're on their way up. Come on, we'll meet them outside."

"Alright, where's the skank?" I used to find her personality endearing, but now it's grating on my nerves. She's never met the girl before and she's already passing judgment.

"Rosalie Hale, you better be nice to her," Alice demanded venomously. Rose just rolled her eyes and leaned up against the wall, staring at her nails. Jazz, Em, and I started talking about football when Alice knocked on the door. There was no answer, so she tried the doorbell.

"Hi, Bella" was all I heard. Alice was still talking, but my eyes were glued to Bella's face. What. The. Fuck? Am I dreaming? Did I get hit too hard at practice and passed out? I pinched myself and felt the sting. No, I'm definitely awake. I can't believe she's really here. When she left Forks, I thought that I would never get to apologize to her for being an asshole, for making up rumors, for losing her father. When I found her in the cemetery that night, seeing her break down like that, something inside of me broke. How could I be such a prick?

"Hi guys. Come on in, dinner's ready." She smiled and moved to let us into her home. Her voice was deeper, not the little girl voice I remember; making her sound sexy without even trying. Her clothes accentuated her curves in all the right places. A smile lit up her face, even though it was probably forced, making her eyes convey life. This was not the girl that left Forks.

I still remember the first time I saw her; we were starting fourth grade, my family just moved here from Chicago. I saw her across the room reading a book, she was a small girl with wavy brown hair that fell just past her shoulders. She was even paler than me, wearing light blue jeans and a red Wonder Woman long sleeve. I was tall, skinny, shy and awkward. She came over to sit with me and introduced herself. I remember thinking that she was pretty.

Even though Alice was a year older than us, she and Bella became best friends after they met at recess on the first day of school. From then on, she was a permanent fixture at the Cullen house. Mom and Dad loved her and thought of her as their own. Emmett acknowledged her, but never carried a conversation with her. Hell, he hardly spoke to me and Alice; he just started middle school, so he didn't want to be associated with "kids."

I admit that I developed a crush on her; I was spending more time with her than Alice was. I was going to ask her to be my girlfriend in the summer before the first day of middle school, whatever that meant to a preteen. But, that was the summer Jasper Whitlock and his cousin, Rosalie Hale, came into town. Jazz and I became best friends and Rosalie was the hottie that hung out with us. Her beauty made her popular and by association, Jasper and I became popular, too. It was a relief to be known as "Edward," and not as Emmett or Alice's little brother.

Rose was as vain then as she is now. She declared that Bella wasn't one of the beautiful people, and had no justifiable reason for hanging out with the cool kids. Jasper didn't want the Police Chief's straight-edge daughter around because he thought that she would kill all the fun. He said it was like having an unwanted, extra conscience. I felt bad for leaving Bella behind, but I really wanted them to like me. Alice was pissed off at us for treating her that way.

Bella didn't come by that much that summer; I was getting into trouble with Jazz and Alice was starting to spend a lot of time with Rosalie, sharing their love for fashion and whatever girly shit they were into. Alice tried to include Bella, but Rose made her feel unwanted and awkward. By the time school started again, I was considered a member of the popular crowd and Bella was an outcast thanks to Rose. I think the only people Bella talked to were teachers and Alice. Nobody spoke to her in class, except for group projects. But even then, they gave her menial tasks and virtually left her out of it. Alice would go out of her way to be nice to Bella, but Rose wouldn't stand for it. For some reason, she had it out for Bella; she wanted her to be alone. It worked. She decided that every time Alice would be nice, we would do something to cancel it out with "punishment." Eventually, Alice overheard a conversation between Jazz and I discussing new punishment. She shot us with an air soft gun until we told her everything. She was livid. Alice stopped talking to the three of us out of anger. She also stopped talking to Bella to protect her. No matter what she felt about us, she couldn't stop Rosalie from torturing Bella. Over the years, we started messing with Bella without provocation. But, that didn't mean punishments ended, they were just worse than before.

I also remember the last time Bella set foot in Forks High. It was October, two months into our freshman year. She walked into the cafeteria looking like the skeleton hanging up in Biology class; it looked like she wasn't eating. Rosalie noticed this, too, and spread a rumor that she was anorexic.

I made the mistake of looking into her eyes, the bright light that once shined through when I first met her was now like a dying ember. No matter what anyone thinks, it hurt to see her like that; what we've reduced her to. It was a big contradiction from what we saw last week. Bella grew a back bone and mouthed off to Jazz and I, saying we were pathetic assholes who will probably end up pumping her gas in the future. There was a fire in her eyes that I've never seen before. I was proud of her. But, to keep my status, I went along with the crowd. And right now, the crowd was expecting something big for retribution.

Rosalie got her locker combination by flirting with a male student that worked in the main office and is currently shredding Bella's extra clothing as we speak. We knew she kept an extra set, food gets spilled on her regularly.

I tripped her and blamed it entirely on her two left feet. The laughter spurred Jazz on and before I knew it, he was pouring his drink all over her. Jazz looked apologetic and stuck his hand out to help her. She took his hand cautiously and started to pull herself up. Halfway, he let go of her hand and she slipped on the soda that was spilled onto the floor. She fell sideways, her shoulder making contact with the floor first, then her head bounced off the ground. It made me sick that the students in the cafeteria were laughing at her pain. It made me feel even worse that this was partly my fault. She hit her head pretty hard, she could have a concussion and they were laughing at her. I had to talk to her, make sure she went to the doctor or something.

Under the guise of wanting to wash the splattered food off of my jeans, I calmly walked out of the cafeteria when all I wanted to do was run to her. Alice got to her first.

"Let me go!" Bella yelled. In all the years that I've known her, I've never heard her yell out of anger before.

"Bella, what happened? Are you okay?" Alice replied. She always had a soft spot for her, even when they weren't on speaking terms.

"Please, I just want to go home," Bella whispered, her voice cracking at the end. She sounded defeated and broken. Alice sighed. Silence followed the sound of a slamming door.

I was in no mood for one of Alice's lectures, I already know I'm an asshole. I turned around and headed into the boy's restroom.

As we were leaving school, I asked Emmett to stop by the Chief's house, so I could check on Bella.

"Why?" He asked. "Feeling guilty? After all this time, you're only feeling guilty now?" He hated the way everyone treated her, but knew what would happen to her if "one of our own" talked to her. The unspoken rule that destroyed Alice's friendship with Bella also applied to him. The way he spoke to me, I knew he was fed up with everything. He had seen the whole thing unravel in the school cafeteria.

"Em, you saw what happened. She could have a concussion, someone needs to make sure she's alright."

"WHAT?! HOW THE HELL DID SHE GET A CONCUSSION?!" Alice yelled into my ear. Her face was red with anger.

"I said she _could_ have a concussion," I defended. She glared at me.

"She slipped when Jasper let go of her," I said softly. On top of feeling guilty, my two older siblings were pissed off at me.

"Edward, she better be okay, or else…" Alice said in a dangerously low voice. I actually feared for my life.

We had no way of knowing if she was inside of her house. The answering machine picked up our calls, the doorbell and knocking went unanswered, and there was no sound of movement, everything was eerily quiet. I threw rocks at her bedroom window, hoping that she would get up to see what the hell was going on, but there was no answer. I climbed up the tree next to the window, but the dark curtains were drawn. We determined that she was either vigilantly ignoring us or she wasn't home.

Later that night, Mom and Dad decided that we should have dinner in Port Angeles since it was Dad's first night off in a long while. We piled into the black Range Rover and set off to the only Japanese restaurant in the area.

Dinner was a little awkward, not that Mom or Dad noticed; they were too wrapped up in their own little bubble to notice the silence between their children. Alice was shooting daggers at me with her eyes. Emmett looked at me disappointedly with a touch of his own guilt, probably because he did nothing to stop whatever happened this afternoon.

On the way home Dad was paged by the hospital. It must have been important because he called them back right away. He spoke quietly as his expression in the rearview mirror turned from worried to fearful. He stepped on the accelerator and sped up to ninety miles per hour after he hung up.

"Carlisle, what's wrong?" Mom was obviously worried because the odometer was inching towards one-hundred and ten and his knuckles were white with strain.

"Nothing, Esme."

"Carlisle…" Mom said sternly. Dad gave in with a resigned sigh.

"Charlie Swan's been in an accident. Drunk driver." His answer was met with four gasps.

"It's not bad is it? He'll pull through right?" Mom has always been fond of the chief. Dad didn't say anything, just looked at her. We could already tell it wasn't good news.

"Dad, what about Bella? She's all alone," Alice whispered, breaking the silence. I turned to look at her, her light green eyes were glassy. He didn't say anything, just sped up.

We were at the hospital in twenty minutes. Dad pulled into his parking spot and jumped out, leaving the engine running. Mom turned the car off, and we set out for the waiting room.

Bella was sitting in there with Officer Fitzgerald, staring off into nothing. Her eyes were red and puffy from crying. She was whimpering and rocking back and forth. Alice went over to comfort her, but she kept a tight grip on Fitzgerald. She turned away from Alice and buried her face into his shirt. She relaxed a little bit, the uniform must give her some sort of security, it was the same as Charlie's.

It's been hours since we first arrived, Dad was assisting in the surgery. Mom took over for Fitzgerald, so he could call Bella's mother. It didn't even occur to me until then, that she might be leaving Forks. For some reason, that made my chest ache. Every now and then, Mom would beg Bella to eat or drink something, however her pleas were met with silence.

An hour later, Doctor Evans came into the waiting room and stood in front of Bella. Slowly, she looked up and saw the melancholy face the doctor was wearing. This brought a fresh wave of tears.

"N- No. No! No, no, no!" She yelled.

"I'm sorry, Bella, we did everything we could. His lung was punctured as was his femoral artery. We fixed that, but, he also suffered from massive brain damage and we couldn't stop the bleeding," Doctor Evans explained, trying to remain professional and fighting back tears of her own.

"No, you're lying," Bella whispered, starting to rise to her feet for the first time in five hours. "He's not dead! He wouldn't leave me here!" She yelled and sobbed at the same time. I felt my own tears stinging my eyes and my throat constricting. She ran towards the operating room, but was stopped by Dad and Officer Lewis, another of Charlie's coworkers. Everyone in the vicinity turned to look with sad eyes at the tragic scene unfolding in front of them.

"He wouldn't leave me here alone! He promised me he wouldn't leave!" She started struggling against them. Dad threw out words like "hysterical" and "sedative." A nurse handed him a syringe filled with a clear liquid and he injected it into Bella's right arm.

"He promised…" was all she whispered before the medication kicked in.

"Dad, Bella hit her head pretty hard at school today. She looked a little disoriented when I talked to her," Alice informed him, shooting accusing glances my way. He nodded and started talking to the nurse who gave him the syringe.

"Julie, please set up a bed for Bella, I'd like to keep her overnight for observation. Order a CT scan ASAP and also put her on suicide watch," he asked quietly. Suicide watch? She wouldn't, right?

We all had school in the morning, so despite all our protests, Mom took us home while Dad stayed at the hospital. That was the worst night's sleep I've ever had. All I could see when I closed my eyes was Bella's agonized tear-stained face. All I could hear were her heartbreaking screams for her father.

I woke up this morning, after drifting off to sleep a mere two hours ago, to rain. If this was somewhere other than the Pacific Northwest I would have thought that the heavens were crying for Charlie's death.

Even through the rain, the flags were still up, flying at half-staff in memory of our beloved police chief. Throughout the week, gossip was spread like wildfire: how the chief died, Bella's mental state, Bella's mother (why she left in the first place and what she's doing now). The more brutal ones can be attributed to Jessica Stanley and Lauren Mallory. To everyone's surprise, Rosalie beat the shit out of those two for being disrespectful. She never explained why and I was too chicken shit to ask. From what Jazz told me, Rose lost both of her parents; that's why she's living with his family. She must have felt a kinship with Bella.

Speaking of family, Alice and Emmett stopped talking to me altogether. Mom and Dad wrote it off as despondency, hell the whole town was despondent. With Emmett as captain of the football team, he suggested that the players and coaches of all sports wear black bands for the rest of the games this school year; the school administration readily agreed. I overheard a conversation between Alice and Mom discussing Bella's current condition. She only did three things: cry, sleep and stare into space; no time left in between to eat or drink. Renee, Bella's mom, called Carlisle when she found a freezing Bella sitting on the front porch in the pouring rain at 6:30 in the evening. Evidently, Bella was waiting for the cruiser to pull up. Alice was so scared for her, she begged mom to take her to the Swan's house. She came back home feeling worse than ever.

"She didn't know who I was… She didn't even know I was there. She's just… She's so far gone. It was like looking into the eyes of a doll," she cried. For the first time in a week, Alice was talking to me. She was letting me comfort her.

But, all I wanted to do was console the fragile girl who was probably retreating into her own mind. This wasn't fair. Bella has never hurt anyone in her entire life, yet we treat her like shit everyday and now she's experiencing a heart wrenching loss. She doesn't deserve any of this, she never did.

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**How was it? Do you think he's still an asshole?  
And before you think it... My Edward will not be a man whore. That's reserved for my next story =D**

**Let me know what you think!**

**-Luckky-**


	4. Chapter 4

**I forgot to mention my thanks to the people who have this story as a favorite, sorry and thank you!**

**clancy119: Your reviews make me laugh and a little nervous... not gonna lie. I'm actually afraid of disappointing you =/ I love reading your reviews, they make me write in real life terms and not all sunshine and happiness of the fiction world, which is what I need. So, thank you for that =D**

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**Twilight isn't mine.**

**Happy reading!**

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_Character cannot be developed in ease and quiet. Only through experience of trial and suffering can the soul be strengthened, ambition inspired, and success achieved._  
- Helen Keller

_Remorse is the pain of sin_  
- Theodore Parker

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After getting the surprise of our lives, I wiped my mouth to make sure I wasn't drooling; I'm sure my jaw hit the floor. We all walked into Bella's condo after her. Since we live on the same floor, I assumed that the layout of hers would be identical to the one I share with my siblings. But, the space I'm looking at right now puts ours to shame. A lot of the walls were knocked down, giving it the illusion that the condo is bigger than it really is. The view outside of the floor-to-ceiling glass windows only added to that effect.

The spacious living room was set up with a huge LCD TV mounted on the wall. The walls on both sides of the TV had built-in shelves and were filled with books, photo albums, DVDs, and picture frames. A cable box, DVD player and Bose sound system were occupying the low cabinets that served as an entertainment center below the TV. The chocolate suede sectional sofa and matching furniture was a stark contrast to the cream-colored shaggy carpet and walls. There were several mass produced black and white photos that hung on the spotless walls. The only splashes of color were the purple orchids that lay on the end table and red and blue candles that sat on the mahogany coffee table. The high ceiling held recessed lighting, where the brightness could be controlled by a panel in the wall. While our fireplace was made out of marble slabs, hers was made out of pieces of stones varying in brown and gray colors. The wooden mantle held pictures of Bella's family and friends in a variety of silver and black frames. A folded US flag was in a triangular wood and glass case next to Charlie's picture from the police force.

"Ni-i-ice," Emmett drew out, "Can I live with you? This is so much better than our place," he finished while eying the big screen.

"_Our _p-place?" Bella stuttered.

"Yeah, across the hall with Ed and Alice," he replied nonchalantly.

"Oh, I was under the impression that Alice lived alone," she said while staring at Alice, who was conveniently looking at pictures and pretending not to hear.

Emmett just shrugged, then said, "I wonder what the rest of this place looks like, you gonna show us around?" He earned a slap to the back of the head by his bitchy girlfriend, Rosalie, for his blatant request for a tour. This is the first time he'd seen her in a long time and was acting like they've been talking for years - like they've been friends for years.

"Doesn't it look the same, though?" Bella asked, looking confused. I thought the same thing.

"Of course it does, ours just has a lot more walls and a smaller TV." I can already imagine Emmett getting comfortable, making himself at home on Bella's cushy-looking couch for Monday Night Football.

"Um, I'll show you guys around after dinner," Bella muttered while walking into the dining room, the five us trailing behind her without another word.

There was a wooden, black-lacquered dining table with six matching chairs in the middle of a light brown and white-colored room. The table was set with place mats that matched the table runner, white plates with a black leaf design, and dark tinted glasses. The bowl of salad, something on a serving plate that looked breaded, and a matching glass pitcher of water sat on the deep red table runner. My stomach was wondering why I didn't hurry the fuck up and satisfy it already. Keeping with the same trend, the recessed lighting surrounded a black chandelier with mutiple strands of glass beads.

Bella sat at one end of the table while Emmett took the other. Alice and Rosalie were on Bella's right, while Jasper and myself were on her left. We served ourselves immediately, Emmett digging right in.

"Why did you decide to go to UW?" Alice said after taking a bite of the delicious salad. Emmett was stuffing his face and going back for seconds. The rest of us were a little uneasy and too nervous to say anything.

"It was my dad's alma mater, that was the only reason I applied. I was accepted to Berkley, but I found out that UW came with a full-ride scholarship. Which is weird because I didn't apply for any." Wow. That was the only thing that came to mind. Everybody echoed my sentiments exactly. She's so gifted, they gave her a scholarship without her asking. Damn.

"What are you planning on majoring in?" I asked, truly curious.

She looked at me with those big brown eyes and a side smirk. "I was going to do political science… change some laws. But, I found that I can't stand people who are nice to your face and will stab you in the back as soon as you turn around. There's too many fake people in politics to trust anyone. They all have their hidden, selfish agendas. Always trying to take advantage of the less fortunate, those who don't know any better," she said, carefully eying each of us. Point taken; you don't trust us. "So I decided on English," she continued casually, like the insinuation never came out of her mouth. Maybe I just imagined it; there are some shady people in politics.

"Do all of you go to UW?" She asked.

"Em, Rose, and Edward do. I go to The Art Institute and Jasper goes to Seattle Pacific," Alice answered for all of us.

Dinner was peppered with small talk and Emmett's many declarations of his undying love for Bella's cooking. Rosalie looked a little peeved because she can barely boil water. Anything relating to Forks seemed like it was a taboo subject, so we focused on the present and future. Bella looked proud and confident as we discussed her scholarship and major. It was obvious that Bella has changed drastically; she held her head up and met each of our eyes as she spoke in a voice that commanded attention and respect. Even when she stood up to Jazz and I, she had this scared, shy aura about her. Although I saw a slight tremor every time she reached over for her glass of water, the girl on my right is a far cry from the girl I remember.

***

It was three o'clock and the church was packed to capacity as Reverend Weber started the service with a prayer. This being Forks, the church didn't have an AC unit installed, so it was warm with body heat. The first five rows were filled with family, close friends, and other police officers from surrounding counties. Billy Black, one of Charlie's best friends, delivered the eulogy, then the floor was welcome to anyone who wanted to say a few words in remembrance.

Soon, it was time to pay our last respects, Bella was first. She placed something in the coffin, kissed Charlie's forehead, and fell to her knees as she broke down in tears. Renee rushed over to Bella and helped her to her seat. The line was slowly inching forward and before I knew it, it was my turn. I noticed the object that Bella laid beside her father. It was a fuzzy brown bear with a black felt nose and eyes like onyx. It was wearing a blue cotton shirt with "World's Best Father" stitched across its chest. Charlie looked as though he was in a deep sleep; his face showed no evidence of a car accident. I tore my eyes away from him and drifted them towards the brown-eyed girl.

Rosalie was kneeling in front of a seated Bella, talking and squeezing her hand. It was an odd sight to see; Rosalie showing compassion to the girl she thought of as pitiful. Bella just sat there, I don't think she even registered that anyone was touching or speaking to her. I walked over to express my condolences, but was unprepared for what I saw. Alice was right, her eyes were like the stuffed bear inside of Charlie's coffin; lifeless. She looked horrible. Her skin was ashen and taut across her stick-thin figure. Her once vibrant brown eyes, were now a lackluster muddy brown. Dark circles underneath her empty, bloodshot eyes made it look like she hasn't slept in days. She stopped crying, but her immobility mimicked a mannequin; she was unresponsive.

The casket was closed and a flag placed over it. The pallbearers took their places on either side. Billy Black and Harry Clearwater wore black suits and took the front. James Fitzgerald, Mark Lewis, Frederick Peralta, and Scott Collins wore their dress uniforms and brought up the middle and rear; all wore white gloves. We walked out of the church with heavy hearts; the pallbearers in the lead, Bella and Renee followed closely behind. Aside from his daughter and two distant cousins, Charlie had no other living relatives.

There was a thick layer of clouds; making it seem dark, like it was just after dusk. The air was frigid and it chilled me to my bones. Mourners were already crowding the gravesite; most were familiar, but some were complete strangers. Easels held flower arrangements that were sent from police precincts and people who were affected by the loss of a friend. Tents were set up with rows of white folding chairs underneath them. People who were standing had their umbrellas in hand, just in case of rain. Even though the media was kept at a distance, they were trying to be respectful by keeping their voices at a whisper; the death of a police chief is always newsworthy when natural causes weren't at fault.

The six men laid the coffin across the bands above the six-foot-deep hole. There were seven more men and women wearing their own dress uniforms about twenty feet from the crowd, their rifles by their sides.

Near the end of the service, two people in uniform took the flag from the top of the coffin and folded it. Bella didn't acknowledge interim Police Chief James Fitzgerald when he presented a folded flag to her, so Renee took it. The pallbearers placed their white gloves on top of the coffin. Dozens of people placed white roses on top of the closed casket before the seven officers were commanded to present their arms as the coffin was lowered into the ground; a 3-volley salute for their fallen brother.

"Fire!" The lead yelled. The resulting answer were seven simultaneous gunshots. The grieving crowd jumped each of the three times the shots went off, everyone except for Bella. She stood stock-still. The crowd dispersed at the end of the funeral. Charlie's friends and fellow officers once again expressed their sympathies to Renee and Bella, but their words fell on deaf ears. Bella's eyes never strayed from the rectangular hole in the ground as she held on tightly to a bunch of pink flowers that Mrs. Clearwater gave to her at the beginning of the service. Bella was so out of it, she didn't even cringe when Jasper and Rosalie advanced on her. They each pulled her into a hug that she never returned. The same went for my family and I.

We drove to the only establishment in town that had a property big enough to fit everybody for the reception. There were people quietly reminiscing, crying, and laughing at shared memories of Charlie. I wandered around, leaving my friends and siblings behind. I did my best to look for the pale brown-haired girl in a sea of people, but came up empty. I was about to give up after I stealthily checked the women's restroom when I heard Renee speak.

"I tried to get her to come, but she insisted on staying at the church. We're leaving tonight, so I thought that it would be a good idea to have this time to herself," Renee said.

"Yeah, I think that would be best," said Sue Clearwater.

"I don't know how well she's going to adjust in Phoenix. I think I may need to get her some ther-"

I didn't stay long enough to hear the rest of that conversation. I had to get over to that church. I needed to apologize for anything and everything before Renee took her away. I had to tell her that I was sorry for everything.

After begging Emmett for a ride, we were finally on our way. He dropped me off at the front steps of the church, then waited in the parking lot.

It was freezing out here, frost was starting to appear on the grass and I could see my breath in the air in front of me. I rushed through the church doors expecting to see Bella sitting in one of the pews; I was wrong. After checking every pew to see if she was lying down on one of them, I checked the restrooms, confessional, and every room that was open to the public. No luck. I ventured outside towards the hallowed grounds and prayed she wasn't out here. My eyes scanned the landscape for Charlie's grave and walked towards it when I spotted it. My heart dropped when I saw a black mass crumpled on the floor next to a mound of grass and dirt. The flowers were taken down and laid to rest beside his grave. Bella was curled up on the other side in a fetal position, still wearing the black sweater and slacks from the funeral. Her little body was shaking like a leaf in the wind.

"Bella?" She didn't answer me. "Bella, it's almost seven o'clock and it's freezing out here." She was starting to worry me. What if she's suffering from hypothermia right now? I don't even know if she's conscious. I took off my coat and moved to place it around her body. She shrugged it off, but said nothing.

I picked up the jacket again, moving even closer to her body. I'll force her to wear it if I have to, I'm not going to let her freeze to death. I caught a glimpse her face and my heart almost stopped. "Bella, come on, you're freezing, your lips are starting to turn blue," I pleaded.

Other than her shaking, she still didn't move. I couldn't leave her like this; she wouldn't make it another hour, so I picked her up. That got a reaction out of her. She hit and kicked me, demanding that I put her down. A few minutes later she slumped and cried into my chest. I've never seen anyone so destroyed before, and seeing her like this damn near shattered my heart. I dipped my head low and kissed her forehead while trying to warm her up.

As much as I wanted to, I couldn't keep Bella in my arms like this. She doesn't weigh much, but my arms were still getting tired from exertion. I whispered that everything will be okay, while lowering us down on the grass. She surprised me when she started yelling again. She said God made her life a living hell and took away the only person that cared about her. I knew God wasn't to blame for the torment she was going through, we were. We turned her into the school pariah just so we had someone to laugh at and make ourselves feel better. She had no one to turn to, no close friends to run to for solace. Bella was going through this passing by herself and it was our fault. She started crying hysterically. I've never dealt with a loss like this, so I didn't know what to say or do to make her feel better… If that was even possible right now.

We sat for a while, the pink was beginning to return to her lips, but the damp grass was soaking through my slacks. She stopped crying, but she hasn't said a word. I wouldn't start because I know I would fuck up again and cause her to cry.

"It should have been me. I'd give up my life for his any day. It's not like many people would miss me; the only one who would be suffering is Dad, but even then he has friends to help him through it," Bella croaked out in a strangled whisper. Is this what we've done to her; made her feel like she was better off dead? She would willingly take the place of her father because she thinks nobody would miss her? She's wrong and she has to know that! I could feel the familiar sting in my eyes, I shut them tightly to prevent the tears from spilling over. It didn't work.

"Bella… I'm so sorry," I whispered. I had to take everything back, tell her that I'm sorry for all the shit we put her through. Tell her that I would do anything to make it up to her, even if it took the rest of my life. I would kneel before her and beg for forgiveness in front of the whole school, even a stadium full of people. I was going to tell her just that, but I was cut off by Renee. They were leaving for the airport.

Bella got up, sat by the headstone and kissed it. Warm tears felt like fire on my ice cold skin, I could taste the saltiness on my lips. She got up and laid the flowers on top of his tombstone and whispered something too low for me to make out. She turned to look at me, back at Charlie's grave, then walked away. I wanted to run to her and beg her right then for absolution, but my feet wouldn't obey me. They were firmly rooted in the ground as I watched her leave.

Emmett found me fifteen minutes later, clearly tired of waiting for my ass. I was still standing in the same place Bella left me. My jacket was still on the floor where she dropped it to say goodbye to the stone memorial.

He drove back home, neither one of us daring to say a word.

A couple weeks later, Police Chief Fitzgerald held a press conference. Further investigation showed that two blood types were found at the scene, one belonging to the woman in the driver's seat, Victoria Callahan. Her blood was found on the passenger's side. The other was of an unknown male believed to be the driver responsible for the accident. They were looking into possible acquaintances of Victoria. He set up a tip hotline to bring in any leads.

The picture shifted to the news anchors. Charlie was hit about ten miles away from the police station. The last transmission from his radio indicated that he was on his way back after a routine traffic stop. I can curse the media all I want, but the public wouldn't know a damn thing without their nosy asses.

We all changed then, we never went back to the people we were before.

Rosalie spiraled into depression; Charlie's funeral and his daughter's breakdown reminded her of her own demons. I guess guilt consumed her for her role in Bella's life and made her depression even worse. She eventually relinquished her crown as Queen Bitch and faded into the background. Jazz would find her at Charlie's grave from time to time. The last time, she was mumbling incoherently through her tears. Perhaps she felt guilt for the way she shunned Charlie's daughter. Jazz's parents were worried about her, Charlie's death seemed to hit her pretty hard and they were worried that it brought up memories of her mother's death. So, they sent her to see a psychologist.

Lauren Mallory spread countless rumors about her in retaliation for the beating she received. The worst rumor she spread was that Rosalie was probably _involved_ with Charlie and that's why she was taking his passing so hard. Alice bitch-slapped, then broke Lauren's nose for being so tactless. Lauren Mallory became the new queen bee because she was the only one as scary and malevolent as Rose. But, at that point in time, it seemed like Rose was a docile kitten and Lauren was a pit bull - vicious and never knew when to give up.

Surprisingly, Emmett helped her through it and they grew close; which was strange because he always thought Rosalie was a cold-hearted, vindictive bitch.

Jasper felt as guilty as I did after I told him that Bella wished she was dead. He agreed with me that if we were given the chance, we would do anything to make it right. He thought that it was fucked up that someone had to die in order for him to realize his shitty behavior. As penance, he volunteered at the Forks Abuse Program in the youth advocacy department. He helped teens and children who were victimized by domestic violence and sexual abuse. Some of them were victims of the same thing we put Bella through. In time, we all enlisted.

Alice was worse, she was the closest one to Bella, and she never got to say a proper goodbye. The three months following the funeral, she didn't talk to anyone except for our parents and her teachers. The social butterfly was now a recluse. Alice wrote Bella one letter a week for four months after the funeral; she got the address from Sue Clearwater. Her letters were never answered. We weren't even sure if they stayed in Phoenix because nobody ever heard from them after they left.

Charlie's death and Bella's departure opened my eyes. Suddenly, popularity was not what I wanted. I wanted to be someone my parents could be proud of. Even though they never knew how we treated Bella, I didn't want them to have any doubts about my character. This experience taught me that anyone we love could be taken away at any moment and I didn't want my behavior to reflect on their abilities as parents when they could no longer defend themselves or yell at me.

We put Bella through anguish for popularity, something that means jack shit in the real world, only to throw it away when it no longer suited us. We deserve to be punished.

***

To this day, there is nothing I regret more than the way we treated Bella Swan. Now I have the opportunity to right my wrongs; I just need the perfect way to do it. Saying 'I'm sorry,' seems too clichéd and a colossal understatement of what needs to be said and done.

Bella came back into the dining room with six chocolate soufflés topped with whipped cream and cocoa powder. I started salivating like Pavlov's dog. Dinner was amazing, but I admit that I was a little guarded - I could end up with food poisoning again… accidentally on purpose, if you know what I mean. I only started eating after Emmett shoved a fourth of his plate into his mouth and Bella started taking small bites out of her portion. Conversation was pleasant until Rose had to open her mouth.

"Bella, I just want to thank you for dinner tonight and I'm sorry… I know that I-"

"I don't want to talk about that right now," Bella interrupted. "Right now, I want to pretend that I've never met any of you before because I'm _not_ the same little girl you guys used to push around. But, we will talk about that. That's a promise." Her voice was icy and her eyes were blazing. Rosalie said nothing; she just nodded and demurely looked down at her dessert.

Demure was a bizarre way to describe Rosalie because she was still a bitch in her bold mannerisms, just not as malicious. It looked as though Bella had power over Rose's life and one wrong move would send her up against a firing squad or dunked in a tank full of piranhas. Any conversation after that was forced or awkward. Way to go, Rose, I hope you're happy! I have a feeling a tour is off the schedule.

Jasper and Rosalie left shortly after dessert; Jasper claiming he had work in the morning and Rosalie feigned exhaustion. The goodbyes were amusing; Jasper didn't know whether to kiss Bella's cheek, hug her, or shake her hand. He settled on a wave, as did Rose. Jazz scooped Alice up in a big bear hug and gave her a kiss on the lips before leaving with his cousin. Bella looked surprised. I guess she just found out that they're dating.

"I'll help you clean up, Bella. It's kind of my fault we were over here anyway."

"That's okay, Alice. It isn't necessary," Bella said.

"Oooh, I'll help you clean up, too," Emmett said, a smile plastered on his face.

"Clean? As in you're going to help clean the leftovers from the plates?" I said. His smile got bigger and he nodded.

"No, you guys don't have to stay," Bella said, she seemed a little apprehensive. I took the hint and decided to leave. She was uncomfortable with us being there. I thanked her and hugged her goodbye. She tensed in my arms and I quickly let go. Well, I feel stupid; of course she doesn't want me to touch her!

"Sorry," I mumbled. "Goodnight."

I got ready for bed deciding on the plethora of ways to apologize.

Clearly, my brother and sister didn't quite get the hint to leave because they came in two hours later, talking and laughing.

"Oh, man this is gonna be good!" Emmett laughed.

"I know! I already have more ideas," Alice said excitedly.

"For what?" I asked sharply, walking into the living room. I really hope they're not talking about messing with Bella. She's been through enough and I thought they were the nice ones.

Alice screamed. "What did I tell you about making your presence known?! Shit, you scared the crap out of me! I thought you went to sleep," she accused.

"You didn't answer my question, _Al_," I accused right back. If they're planning on hurting Bella, family or not - I am kicking ass.

"Recipes, _Eddie_. Bella's gonna teach me and Em how to cook," she answered with a smile. Oh, for the love of all that is holy! Alice in the kitchen? With Emmett? That's a catastrophe waiting to happen. We should call FEMA in advance, those two could take out half of Seattle from one kitchen. Bella better fireproof her kitchen and spray Teflon on every surface because they are not doing that shit over here. I rolled my eyes and turned around.

"I have an early practice tomorrow, I'm turning in. 'Night."

"G'night," they both chirped.

* * *

**A/N: Billy Black is not in a wheelchair.  
Some places are real, others are just a figment of my imagination.  
I've never been to a military or police funeral, so please excuse any wrong information.  
I know you guys are probably annoyed with these ANs, but I like to be thorough and have it as close to real life as it can get.**

**Thanks for reading! Review please!**

**-Luckky-**


	5. Chapter 5

******Hello readers! Welcome back! Thank you, thank you, thank you for the reviews, alerts and faves! Love you guys!**

**Don't own it, never will.**

**Happy reading!**

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_The hardest thing in life is to know which bridge to cross and which to burn._  
- David Russell

_Well, remember what you said, because in a day or two, I'll have a witty and blistering retort! You'll be devastated THEN!  
_- Calvin and Hobbes (comic strip)

* * *

Dinner was interesting to say the least. Who knew I could talk to that group of people without wanting to throw someone through my window or stick a fork in someone's eye? It was as if we were strangers getting to know each other. It was refreshing to know that Rosalie's bitchy, little snide comments took a rain check for the evening. Edward and Jasper weren't whispering to each other and sharing looks after glancing my way. Alice was using hand gestures as she talked animatedly about her new internship with Magnolia, an up and coming haute couture clothing company based in Seattle. Emmett was… well… he was having several private moments with his food. I actually thought about leaving the room a few times to give him some solitude… or suggest he use the guestroom. I asked and answered questions like a pro. On the surface I was calm, cool, and collected, but deep down I had to fight with myself to keep from running out of the room. My hands shook every time I pulled them away from my body, so I limited my thirst for the glass of water in front of me.

Rosalie's apology caught me off-guard, I hate being surprised and unprepared. I knew there was a possibility of us hashing this out tonight, but I was hoping for a small postponement. I need a chance to get my game plan together and mentally prepare myself for the onslaught of raw emotions and memories that was sure to come. For me, tonight was supposed to be about whether or not I could stand to be in the same room with them. The night was out of the ordinary as it was and there was no way in heaven, hell, or purgatory we were dredging up the past while they were all sitting in my dining room. I may have changed, but I'm still a sucker for puppy-dog eyes. They could gang up on me to ask for absolution and I would no doubt buckle under pressure like an alcoholic at happy hour and grant it to them. I want to know why they were such assholes and why Emmett and Alice let them get away with that shit. I saw their faces when their brother and his friends fucked with me, it was of disappointment and disgust, yet they did nothing. I assume they said nothing either, since it continued until my last day at Forks High.

I didn't want _apologies_; I want fucking _explanations_. They want my forgiveness? They're going to have to beg for it. I'm not going to absolve them of their sins just because they feel guilty; I'm not here to do them any favors just so they can get on with their lives. I'm still trying to move on with mine. I may have friends now, but doubt still creeps into my mind. If Alice and Edward could turn their back on me, who's to say my best friends won't betray me?

After my outburst during dessert, the air was thick with discomfort. Jasper and Rosalie excused themselves and said their goodnights. When Jasper picked Alice up and kissed her on the lips, I was more than shocked. Alice used to hate Jasper, and now she's sleeping with the enemy. He will continue being the enemy until I say otherwise. Alice was right though, they seemed to have done a one-eighty. Unless this is all part of their plan, I saw Emmett and Rosalie interact with each other, too. Emmett and Alice could be in collusion with _them_, crossed over to the dark side. They probably want to catch me off guard with their friendliness, then push me in front of a crowd in nothing but my mismatched bra and granny panties. Note to self: throw out the gray underwear with yellow ducks on them.

"I'll help you clean up, Bella. It's kind of my fault we were over here anyway." Kind of your fault? Weren't you the one who single-handedly destroyed dinner… and possibly a kitchen?

"That's okay, Alice. It isn't necessary." I need time to think and regroup as soon as possible. I couldn't do that if she was going to be in my face every freaking second.

"Oooh, I'll help you clean up, too," Emmett said. _Just great_, I thought as I looked up at the ceiling, sighing.

"Clean? As in you're going to help clean the leftovers from the plates?" Edward teased. Please tell me he's not thinking of staying, too. I hope he acts like a typical guy and bows out of cleaning.

"No, you guys don't have to stay." I don't want him and his sibs to hang around longer than necessary. It was times like this I wish Dad hadn't taught me to be polite. But, I couldn't betray my upbringing, it would be like soiling my dad's memory or some symbolic thing like that.

At least Edward took the hint; he was going to leave. But not before making me uncomfortable. He hugged me like we were old friends, which we were - technically. I felt my body melting into his strong arms. Just like it did when we were lost in the woods during an Independence Day celebration before fifth grade. He held me close because I was bawling my eyes out, thinking we were going to get eaten by a bear or stomped on by an elephant. I was going out of my mind... don't judge. He told me that everything will be alright, and that we'd be home in no time. He never let go of me once, even when his shirt was soaked with my tears. Edward was right, we were found twenty minutes later. It turns out we were only fifty yards away from a marked trail. We got in so much trouble when we got home and were forbidden to play in the woods in the future. But, before I became putty in his arms, my mind caught up with what was going on. This was douche bag number one, the Edward I knew is long gone and I miss him very much. He felt me go rigid and quickly released me, realizing his mistake.

"Sorry," he mumbled. "Goodnight."

I locked the door after him and joined Alice and Emmett in the kitchen. As promised, Emmett ate the rest of the leftovers.

"Do you have anymore of that chocolate stuff? That was top notch quality," Emmett asked, revealing the half chewed salmon in his mouth. I wrinkled my nose… eww.

"Sorry, I used all the batter already. You guys really don't have to do this. There's not much of a mess and I can always put that crap in the dishwasher or something." That was kind of a hint to leave… let's see if they take it.

"Well, the reason why I stayed is because I wanted to talk to you," Alice said.

"Okay, why did you lie to me? You led me to believe that you lived alone. Is this supposed to be some kind of trick?" Like I said, I hate being caught unprepared; I got defensive and irrational.

"I didn't want you to feel nervous or scared or have you move out of the building. But, that's not what I wanted to talk to you about." Damn, she couldn't give me a little time to pull myself together first? I don't have a strategy yet.

"I wanted to talk to you, too. The food was just a bonus," Emmett added.

"Uh…" was my brilliant reply. I think I need a Xanax.

"Please, Bella. I know you told Rosalie that you didn't want to talk about it yet, but please hear me out," Alice begged while looking up at me with a sad expression. She reminded me of the puppy that followed me home from school at the end of sophomore year. His white coat was covered in dirt and it looked like he hadn't eaten in a few days. He looked up at me with sad eyes just begging for some attention, pleading with me to give him a home. It was heartbreaking. I found it hard to resist the same look in Alice's eyes. I caved. Fine, she wins. I nodded for her to continue.

"First, I am so sorry. I know that Edward, Jazz, and Rose were the ones who were responsible for all the harassment, but I know that it seemed like I turned a blind eye. I stopped talking to you because I was trying to protect you," she said. Wait. What the fuck? Did I hear her right? Protect me? What kind of BS is she trying to pass off here? I could feel my anger boiling to the surface, threatening spew out like lava. My cool façade began to slip away.

"You were trying to protect me?! From what?! You deserted me! For those first three months, I was looking forward to lunch because that was the only time anybody other than the teachers said _anything_ nice to me! I was devastated and humiliated that day you walked out on our friendship!" I yelled. I brought my hand up to attempt to rub the irritation off of my face. I didn't even realize I was crying. But, how the fuck could she justify her abandoning me as protection?! It was more like she was protecting her ass from a tarnished reputation.

***

I walked with an extra bounce in my step as I walked to meet Alice in the cafeteria. We were going to Port Angeles today after school with her mom, Esme. Yesterday, I begged Dad to withdraw from my savings account for Christmas gifts; he gave me two hundred dollars this morning. That is more than I needed, I only had to buy three gifts: one for Dad, one for Alice, and another for Esme and Carlisle. There's no need to tell him that Alice was my only friend left, plus I can always double up on presents.

I looked at the table that Alice and I usually occupy, but it was empty. I figured that she hasn't gotten out of class yet, so I sat and waited underneath the fluorescent lights. Ten minutes later when she still didn't show up, I scanned the room. I saw her sitting at a different table by herself. Odd. I walked over, talking about Christmas gifts as I sat down in front of her.

Her eyebrows furrowed, like she couldn't fathom why I'd be talking to her. She didn't say a word to me as she got up and walked out of the cafeteria without another glance my way.

I could already hear the whispers and laughter, and feel their stares. My face was hot with embarrassment and I struggled not to cry. I got up from the table and walked out of the cafeteria with as much dignity as I could scrape together. The rest of lunch was spent in a restroom stall.

Later that day, I told Dad that something came up and Esme couldn't take us out. He offered to take Alice and I, but I declined. Preferring to just shop at the meager stores around Forks.

***

"That was the day," I continued, "that I believed every word Rosalie ever said about me. You let me think that I was a worthless piece of shit, that Rosalie was right in her assertion that I was undeserving of friends. I had already lost Edward to them, I had no other choice than to believe they took you away, too." I looked up from my greenish-blue stone floor in the kitchen to see tears rolling down Alice's face.

"I'm so sor-sorry, Be-Bell-a. I really was trying to protect you. The only thing they did before they started pulling all that shit was ostracize you. Do you know why they started harassing you? Because I was your friend! They cut up your umbrella on the day you had to walk home because we saw a movie together! They put worms in your backpack because I had dinner at your house!

"I had no idea what was going on until I overheard Jazz saying something about punishment for the swan. I shot the shit out of him and Edward with Em's air soft gun until they told me what the hell was going on. They said that it was Rosalie's idea. They said that you were smart and you'd figure out that being friends with me isn't worth all the trouble you seem to be having. They made it your decision to cut yourself off from me because they didn't want me mad at them. I was just trying to protect you, I promise" she pleaded with me. Every time I did stuff with Alice, there was a consequence to it the next day. I chalked most of it up to my bad luck because I refused to believe that they would stoop that low. I was naive enough to think that there was good inside of them, somewhere.

"Yeah, it didn't work so well, did it? A couple months after that, the rumors started, food was being thrown at me, and I was ass end of every joke! Why didn't you say anything then?!" I was mad and her justification was on shaky ground.

"I know," she whispered, "and you can't even begin to imagine how sorry I am. When you were in seventh grade, you got sick and was out of school for two weeks. Remember? I got all your schoolwork from your teachers and dropped it off at your house each day, so you wouldn't fall behind." That was her? I figured that Dad went to the school for me on his lunch break or something because he never said anything to me about finding it on the porch.

"The Monday you came back to school, I heard Jasper stole your backpack and put it on the roof in the rain. I found out that Rose heard me talking to some of your teachers. It was always worse for you when I interacted with you or helped you in some way."

I wasn't expecting that as a reason for her silence, so I have no idea how to feel about it. I was prepared to yell at her until she cried. I don't know what I would've done if I had been in that position. I wasn't very intimidating back then and my involvement might have caused my friend more trouble. All through this, Emmett has been eerily quiet, so I turned to him with a raised eyebrow, waiting for his answer.

"There is no excuse for my inaction in the first year it started, and for that I'm sorry. I was selfish and focused on my life and my own friends. I didn't want to get involved and ruin my reputation. Plus, I thought that you could handle yourself if you wanted to, you know with you being the chief's daughter and all. I was in high school the next year and thought "out of sight, out of mind." Alice didn't say much about it to me, she didn't say much to anyone in the house. By the time you were in eighth grade, Rosalie was already starting high school, so I thought things would have cooled off by then."

"What does Rosalie being in high school have to do with anything? There was more than one person you know." I asked.

"She was the one calling _all_ the shots," Alice replied. That little whore… no wonder eighth grade was relatively easier than the previous two.

"I did try to stop them in September when you started high school, though. I couldn't beat up Rosalie or my brother, so I settled for Jasper. I gave him a black eye and a busted lip. The next day I heard that someone cut a chunk of your hair off and you had to get it fixed," Emmett said sadly. Yeah, my waist-long hair was cut into long layers after that. I convinced Dad that I was experimenting and it didn't turn out so well.

I realized that nothing short of involving the school administration and Chief of Police, they never would have stopped. If Dad found out he would have shipped me to Arizona to stay with a mother that didn't want me. He could have made examples out of them, but my life would have been worse if I was labeled as a snitch. They probably would just come up with more creative ways to torture me while going undetected. Even after Emmett beat the crap out of Jasper, they continued to target me. It's hard to blame these two, but even harder to trust them. How do I know they won't try to "protect" me again? They could leave me hanging when I need them the most. How do I even know that they're telling me the truth?

"We're sorry, Bella. Can you ever forgive us?" Alice asked.

"This is so fucked up. How the hell did I manage to live this kind of life? I feel like I'm a character in _Days of Our Lives._ Just when I think my life is somewhat normal, other shit happens. I don't know if I can forgive you right now, Alice. I'm sorry. I just... need time to think about this."

"I understand," she said quietly.

"You know what will make you feel better, though? If you get back at them," Emmett said with a mischievous glint in his eyes. Alice nodded along, agreeing with him. I certainly think about retribution, but I don't know if I have the guts to go through with it. But, he's right, revenge will make me feel better.

"What did you have in mind?" I asked, while he and Alice beamed at me. If they want to earn my trust, planning these escapades would certainly put them in my good graces. After this is over, maybe I'll consider forgiving them.

***

The sun was shining on a chilly Wednesday afternoon. Today, we were implementing Operation Vengeance. It's been three days since Alice and I came up with this plan and I couldn't wait to put it in action. Of course, I was a little scared because the blond demon of destruction could deck me in the face in middle of a restaurant. Yes, I was scared of being physically hurt. I've never been in a fight and they've never laid a hand on me, unless you count the last time.

Alice called Rosalie yesterday to ask her out to lunch with us and find out what she was wearing. Apparently, the last time they had lunch together, they were dressed in similar clothing and colors. I believe she described it to me as a _Twins _moment; the movie with Danny DeVito and California's incapable governor, Arnold Schwarzenegger. Alice wore a green cable knit sweater dress, black leggings and brown slouch boots.

Rosalie walked into Wild Ginger a few minutes after Alice and I got a table wearing a short gray dress with a black cardigan, despite the cold temperatures. Her chunky heels boosted her height to super model status, making her legs appear a mile long. Sitting next to her and Alice made me feel frumpy. I wore a pair of AG boot cut jeans, a plain white burnout t-shirt from CK, a leather jacket from Metropark, and my beat up chucks. I knew I should have dressed up this morning! She's probably thinking of shredding my clothes again.

"Hi, Alice!" Rosalie gave her a big hug and a kiss on the cheek. I narrowed my eyes at this public display of affection. If this turns out to be a set up for mortification, I'm setting Alice's closet on fire. How the hell are they acting like best friends after what Alice told me? Was Alice lying about everything?

"Hi, Bella," she said quietly, probably not wanting to ruffle my feathers. Maybe she doesn't want me yelling at her again. I smirked and said "hi."

She took the seat across from me at the square table, placing her Louis purse on the chair in between us, across from Alice. I caught a ride with Alice so all I had was cash and ID in the front pocket of my jeans. Alice's black clutch was in her lap.

Our server came over to take our drink orders. We made small talk while waiting for their iced teas and my coffee. Rosalie was laying it on thick, complimenting me on my culinary skills and making fun of her lack of knowledge in the kitchen. As soon as our server came back, we put in our order for starters: potstickers and crab cakes. We took this time as an opportunity to order our main entrée. Rosalie got the Black Pepper Scallions, Alice decided on Tuna Manada, and I ordered the Panang Curry Beef.

"What was it like in Arizona, Bella? Jazz and I came from Alaska and the furthest south we've been is Olympia." I didn't detect a falseness, she looked like she genuinely wanted to know.

"It was the exact opposite of home. The sun shined almost everyday and I had a ton of friends." She looked down at her hands, ashamed, and fiddled with her straw wrapper. The small smile she was wearing was wiped off of her face. I kind of felt bad for bringing shit up when she was on her best behavior, but I had to remember who this girl was and still possibly is.

"I'm sorry."

"Not now, Rosalie. We will get to that when _I'm_ ready. I'm here because of Alice, she wanted to have a nice lunch and I don't want to ruin it." She nodded.

"So, Alice, how do you like it at The Art Institute?" I asked.

"I love it! The classes are so fun and I'm planning on getting my bachelors in fashion design. And I just found out that the designers at Magnolia liked my ideas and want me on the design team, not just as an assistant."

"Congratulations, that sounds like fun," I said, authentically happy for her.

"Rosalie, what are you majoring in?" I asked out of courtesy. I really couldn't give two shits about it, but I'm not going to stoop to Hale's level and ignore the shit out of a person just because I don't like her. Dad didn't raise me to be rude.

"Mechanical engineering," her eyes lit up when she told me. Huh? Say what now? Engineering? Definitely not what I expected. With her looks and attitude, she would be a perfect addition to Hollywood. She has "diva" written all over her face.

"Wow, sounds difficult."

"I like cars and learning how to put stuff together to make it work, I found that out when I started hanging with Emmett," she shrugged like it was no big deal.

"What are you planning to do with that?" I asked as several male servers placed our food in front of us. They were lingering there a little bit too long.

"Do you guys mind? We'd like a little privacy to enjoy our lunch," Alice said, making the waiters scatter.

"I want to do research and development with an American car company. Domestics are pretty shitty and have a bad reputation all around, that's why a lot of people are looking at imports. If we can successfully get ahead of the market, maybe they will open up more plants and create more jobs." Well, damn. Her answer is so unselfish, un-Rosalie-like from what I can remember about her. She makes me feel guilty for owning an Audi. Like it's partly my fault that thousands of people were out of work for nine weeks when GM closed fourteen of their plants. Here she is, thinking about helping the American economy with her major and all I'm thinking about is how to make it big in publishing. Huh. Go figure. It still doesn't exempt her from my plotting.

"Alice, did you want some of my beef?" I asked, gesturing to my plate with my chopsticks.

"Oooh, yeah, just put it on my plate," she said before stuffing a piece of tuna into her mouth.

I grabbed a piece of beef that was slathered with curry sauce with my chopsticks. I held it up, careful to avoid the glasses and other crap on the table. The piece of meat started slipping and I put more pressure on my chopsticks in order to hold onto it. But, it slipped and flew in Rosalie's direction. It landed on her chest, then slid down to her lap, leaving a yellow curry trail in its wake.

"Oh my god! I'm so sorry, Rosalie. Let me help you!" In my haste to reach the napkins, I tipped my plate and coffee over. Now, there was curry sauce and coffee all over her expensive, white, fabric purse. When she saw the stains on her two-thousand dollar purse, she looked like she wanted to cry or murder me with her chopsticks. She took deep breaths, trying to calm herself down because she probably didn't want to tell me off... hesitating to call me a bitch when she's supposed to be kissing my ass.

The waiters scrambled to help Rosalie with the mess. Most were trying to get the curry sauce off of her chest.

"OKAY! Enough! Stop trying to grope me or I'm reporting all of you to your manager! And get us the damn check!"

After leaving enough money on the table to cover the food and make up for the mess I caused, we walked out of the restaurant.

"I'm sorry about the dress and the bag, Rosalie. You know how clumsy I am. I thought I had the art of chopsticks figured out."

"It's okay," she replied, still looking aggravated.

"The dress was last season and the purse was ugly anyway. I was doing you a favor," I sighed. Rosalie whipped her head around and narrowed her eyes at me. I smiled, showing all my teeth. It doesn't feel so good when you're on the receiving end does it?

"I guess I deserved that," she muttered. "I'll see you guys later," she said walking in the opposite direction, her shoulders slumping. Don't let your guard down, Hale, because this is only the beginning.

As soon as she was out of earshot, Alice howled in laughter. "She had that coming! Did you see her face when all that crap got spilled?" She laughed. "She looked like she was going to have a heart attack. It took her seven months worth of her salary to afford that!" Alice was still laughing. Why did she feel the need to tell me that?! Now I feel guilty! Damn conscience, I can't even enjoy one small victory!

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**A/N: Not my best chapter, but I'm satisfied with it. Now... chapter 6 might be a little late. I was in Vegas over the weekend, so last week my mind was focused on my trip and I hardly wrote anything. I'll try to get it out by next Monday, but no promises.**

**Yes, I know Emmett was an ass! But, he did make up for a tiny part of it by beating the shit out of Jasper, right? Better late than never, oui? So, what did you think about what happened to Rosalie? One word: Karma.  
Yes, I think the Terminator is an imcompetant fugger! He has no idea how to run this state! That's the price for voting a Hollywood icon into office my fellow Californians.**

**Questions, comments, concerns... Let me know!**

**Thanks for reading!**

**-Luckky-**


	6. Chapter 6

**Welcome back, readers! I am very, very sorry for the delay, but my life has been out of control since I came back from Vegas.  
Thank you to everyone who reviewed, alerted, and faved. I would have quit writing without you guys... seriously.**

**I'm sorry that some people didn't agree with my decision for Bella in the last chapter; I hate to disappoint people, but I can't make everyone happy. Plus, what's the fun in reading about a character that's always so quick to forgive? If Bella ignores the rest of them for the rest of the story, there's not much work with. Also, I'm a sucker for happy endings; the fairytale kind, not the dirty one...although...**

**On another note: there may be some confusion with the Cardinals. The Arizona Cardinals are a real NFL team and are not to be confused with the MLB team, the St. Louis Cardinals. Sorry for my lack of clarification. In the future when I mention the team, please know that I am writing about American football.**

**I am very sorry if you spot some or many grammatical errors... they kick my ass all the time.**

**Disclaimer: Don't own it, never will.**

**Happy reading!**

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_It is the confession, not the priest, that gives us absolution._  
- Oscar Wilde

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The cold, dark, and windowless corridors gave the illusion that they went on forever. The squeaks of my Vans slip-ons against the waxed floors were cutting through the silence like thunder. I tried each door as I passed it, they were either locked or they led to completely empty rooms with no portals to the outside world. As I contunued my journey, I entered into a brightly lit rotunda; the meeting place of all hallways. In that moment, I felt safe.

My peripheral vision caught a flash of white to the left of me.

"Daddy is that you?" I ran towards the hallway where I thought the flash originated from. "Daddy? Can you help me, please?! I can't find my way out!"

I looked back, noticing that the rotunda was far behind me, once again leaving me in the silent darkness. "Dad?" I called out.

The hairs on the back of my neck stood on end as I felt cold air dance around me. My fight or flight response kicked in and I took off in the other direction; I willed myself not to stop. It seemed like the longer I ran, the longer the passage stretched. It felt like a damn eternity before I saw a tiny pinprick of light. I sprinted towards it, not caring that I was panting, sweating, and limping like I've just participated in a marathon. The light grew brighter as I neared my destination.

I entered the gray stone room; it was a church that looked like the old gothic cathedrals that were erected in Europe centuries ago. The sun was shining through the stained glass windows that were high above the ground, and threw an array of colors onto the floor. Other than the pews, the rest of the church was bare.

My vision towards the alter was limited, for it appeared to be under the protection of a dense fog. I quietly crept closer to it, afraid of being caught. My eyes widened and a gasp was caught in my throat. It was a glass coffin held together by melded pieces of gold that created an elaborate design, the girl that rested inside looked exactly like me.

The paleness of her skin matched mine, but hers was flawless and luminescent. Her eyebrows and dark lashes were a stark contrast to her white skin. Her full red lips looked to be in a pout. I wasn't sure if she was dead; she wasn't breathing, but there were no gray undertones to her skin. She looked like Snow White waiting for her prince to wake her with a kiss.

Her hands were folded across her midsection with a rosary entwined in her fingers. A halo of woven gold wires and ruby stones adorned her head, while her espresso-colored hair was fanned out on top of a white satin pillow. She was dressed in a long, flowing, white gown with capped sleeves and gold embroidery, pearly white ballet flats, and the locket I received for my birthday. My hand instinctively went to my chest, I panicked as I realized wasn't wearing it. I took a step closer and placed the fingertips of my right hand on the glass. Snow White's lids popped open and her golden-colored eyes averted to look straight into my brown ones. I let out nothing more than a squeak; a scream requires air and I momentarily forgot how to breathe. My sight began to darken as black spots exploded in my line of vision. She opened her mouth to speak, but was cut off by the tolling of a bell. I sucked in a sharp breath as she lifted her hand to meet mine on the other side of the panel.

I was abruptly woken from my dream by the sound of incessant chiming. Holy shit, what kind of dream was that?

I blinked the sleep from my eyes and looked at my alarm clock… seven in the AM?! Who the hell is stupid enough to wake me before nine? I stepped into my blue fuzzy slippers and threw on my gray and white fleece robe before I stormed out of my room. Shit, even the classes I signed up for don't start until eleven o'clock. As I got closer to the door, I could hear the doorbell being replaced by frantic knocks.

I yanked the door open and glared at the blond-haired goddess in front of me. She was sporting yoga pants, a blue hoodie, and a pair of black running shoes. She wasn't wearing any makeup and her eyes and nose were a little red, yet she still managed to look like a beauty queen. Some people have all the luck.

"What in the fuck are you doing here so early?" I mumbled through a yawn.

"I'm sorry, but I really need to talk to you," Rosalie said, while she brushed past me and walked into my living room.

"Well, please, come on in, Rosalie!" I muttered sarcastically and shut the front door.

"Rosalie, I apologized for ruining your purse and even offered to replace it." I admit it, I feel very guilty for spilling all that crap on it. If I knew she saved up so much money for it, I wouldn't have done it. I assumed she got it as a gift from Japer's parents.

"Bella, don't even worry about that. I just need to get this out before my head explodes or my insides liquefy and start coming out of every orifice on my body." Gross... I just threw up in my mouth.

"Let me go make some coffee first." _And scrub that mental image from my head._

After I breathed in the vapors of my caffeine, I felt my drowsiness and irritation dissipate…a little. I looked up to see Rosalie watching me and my morning coffee. I cleared my throat and offered her a cup; she declined. I shrugged my shoulders, more for me.

"You said you wanted to talk, so by all means…" I said as I gestured to the other side of the couch. She remained standing and proceeded to pace a hole into my rug.

"Damnit, Rosalie, will you just sit down!" What can I say? I'm not a morning person and her pacing was starting to make me dizzy. She did as I asked, more like demanded, and parked her ass on one of the soft couch cushions. She took one look at me and got freaked out. Rosalie got up to continue to destroy my carpet.

"Oh, God… I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry…" Rosalie repeated while she paced. She wrung her hands out and bit her nails like an addict waiting for her next fix.

"Saying 'I'm sorry' until you're blue in the face isn't a conversation and it certainly isn't an explanation for this early house call. If you have nothing else to say, please see yourself out, so I can go back to sleep."

She stopped her march and looked straight at me. To allege that I was shocked was a monumental understatement; Rosalie was crying. Am I still dreaming? There was no way this succubus could produce tears. If it were possible, I kind of expected that she cried acid or tar.

"No, please. I have something to say. Something I need to tell you," she said as she sat back down on the edge of the sofa.

"Okay," I gave in. The sooner she says her piece, the sooner I could get back to dreamland. Maybe this time I could dream of Logan Marshall-Green after _Dark Blue_ aired.

"I'm sorry for being horrible to you. When I first came to Forks, I was really jealous of you."

I snapped out of my daydream involving Logan and handcuffs. "Right," I scoffed, before I took a long pull of the chocolate flavored coffee.

"Don't interrupt me… Please?" She added when I raised an eyebrow at her tone of voice. "You had two best friends who liked you for you. My personality sucked; I was self-centered and thought I was better than everyone because of my looks. I know I only had friends because I was considered "popular," I'm not stupid. But, as long as the guys wanted me and the girls wanted to be me, I didn't give a shit or I pretended not to, at least.

"You had a dad who loved you enough to raise you on his own, no matter how difficult it was for him. Alice told me about the birthday and Christmas cards Renee would send. My mother and father left me high and dry. Jazz's dad was busy being head of pediatrics at Forks General and his mother, my mother's sister, either acted as if I wasn't there or like I was an inconvenience. Then, the final straw was that Edward didn't show any interest in me because he only looked at you."

"You've got to be _kidding_ me. Edward never liked me in that way. If he did, he never would have done anyth-"

"He did. But, it was fairly easy for me to manipulate him." I opened my mouth, but she cut me off again. "That's Edward's story to tell, not mine." I scowled.

"I lashed out because I was resentful, you had almost everything that I wanted. I believed that I was entitled and you were inferior." It's ironic that the girl who seemed to have everything, felt as if she had nothing.

"When your dad died," she said on ther verge of crying, her voice started to break. I held up my hand, and told her to stop; I didn't want to hear anymore. This went beyond the realm of apologizing for her abhorrent behavior during grade school.

"No, please, I need to tell you this," she pleaded. I shut my eyes and curled up on the couch, my black and green ceramic mug full of coffee was long forgotten.

"When your dad died, I felt horrible; I knew you had nobody to turn to because I turned you into a social pariah. I kind of knew how you felt."

"Stop! You don't know _anything_ about it! You don't know anything about _me_!" I fumed. She had no idea what it felt like to be me. I was _alone_ and she had _everyone_.

"I do," she whispered. "Do you know why I lived with Jazz's family?"

"We weren't exactly buddies, Rosalie, so I can't say that I do," I spat, formalities and politeness already out the window.

"Right, I'm sorry," she said. She paused and thought for a moment before she took in a breath and continued, "When I was eight, my dad ran off with his secretary, Renata. I begged him to stay and promised that I would be a good girl from then on. When he left, he looked at me with such disdain and told me that I wasn't his. I still cringe every time I think about it. For the longest time, I thought that it was my fault that he left. I was resigned to accept the fact that he didn't love me enough, if he was so eager to leave. My mom was unconcerned with my well-being and drank herself into oblivion because she couldn't handle the stigma of being abandoned by her husband for another woman. I learned how to fend for myself at eight years old. She ended up with cirrhosis of the liver and died from kidney failure three weeks after my tenth birthday…she didn't love me enough to stay, either. Jasper's parents, Uncle Peter and Aunt Charlotte, had been named as my legal guardians after she took her last breath in that hospital bed. I wasn't even aware that my mother had any siblings. I stayed in a group home until they claimed me right before the funeral; I was relocated to Anchorage shortly after. At first, Jasper didn't like me because he felt like I was intruding on his family, so we didn't talk much. Aunt Charlotte didn't want me there, she had acted as if I was some kind of horrible reminder; she was cold and indifferent. Uncle Peter doted on me like a daughter he's never had...when he had time in his busy schedule. The point it: I was alone and I had nobody to talk to. I had friends back in Denali, but not anyone worth keeping in contact with. After my parents left, I didn't want to get close to anyone, didn't want to open myself up. If I didn't let anyone in, I would never be hurt _when _it ends in disappointment - people in my life always leave. I built all my friendships on superficial reasoning to avoid being mentally battered and bruised. At that point in time, I had forgotten what it felt like to be loved or deeply cared for. That forsaken feeling followed me to Forks; it turned the loneliness to bitterness when I met you. Like I said, 'you had almost everything I wanted.'

"I'm not trying to blame my behavior on my childhood. I'm just trying to tell you that I know how it feels to be alone and not have anyone to turn to. That just makes the way I treated you even more horrendous," she said, shaking her head.

"The night of the accident, not only changed your life… it changed mine, too. When I got home from school that day, there was a piece of mail addressed to me. The return address indicated that it was from my father, he was living in LA. I ran up to the safety of my room, envelope in hand, and tore into it as soon as I closed my door.

"He had written to me the reason why he had left. Things had gotten bad between my parents and they argued every night; our house was big, so I never heard any arguments from them. He spent a lot of time at the office and she spent most her time buzzed. I was a child and didn't know any better; I actually thought her behavior was normal at the time. They got into a fight one night and my mom blurted out the most hurtful thing she could think of: she wasn't sure if I was his daughter. My mom had an affair with Uncle Peter around the time of my conception. That explained Charlotte's hatred towards me and the reason why I never knew of the Whitlocks. He went on to write that he raised me from infancy and that alone made me his daughter, biology be damned. I remember thinking, 'Wow, it only took you seven years to realize that.'

"All that time and not one word from him. Then, out of the blue he wants me to move to California. What gave him the right to waltz back into my life and expect me to welcome him with open arms? His name is on my birth certificate and my paternity was never challenged. For some reason, his parental rights were never terminated, so he gave me two choices: go to him voluntarily or he could involve the courts. I couldn't breathe; the walls started closing in on me and I felt like I was suffocating. Jasper wasn't home and Peter and Charlotte started their weekend early with a trip to Seattle. At fifteen years old, I swiped Charlotte's car keys and drove to La Push.

"I sat on the cliff for hours, thinking of my options. I knew nothing of the law. But, I thought that I could call his bluff and stay in Forks, it was familiar to me and I had friends… no matter how fake and shallow they were. My second option was to give in; go to Los Angeles and make new friends and a new life, yet I had to live with a man I had already begun to despise and the woman he ran off with. I swung my legs in the air as the waves crashed against the rocks below the cliff I was sitting on. I remember thinking that eradicating the pain and confusion was as easy as a hop off the cliff, but I was too chicken shit to go any further than thinking it. I finally decided to head back home when it was dark," she said, before a sob ripped through her. "It's my fault."

"I'm not following… what's your fault?" Did she think that it was her fault that her family fell apart? Hell no! She never asked to be brought into this world, yet she is the one who is regarded as the mistake that ruined people's lives.

"Charlie's dead because of me," she wailed.

"Wha-what?" I don't think I heard her correctly. Tears started to sting my eyes, as clouded memories of that night reclaimed it's place at the forefront of my mind. This time there was no numbing sensation, no catatonic bliss; I felt every damn painful and confusing emotion hitting me ten-fold. It felt like a freight train knocked the wind out of me. I've never dealt with his death correctly; just pushed it to the depths of my mind and accepted that he was no longer with me. I never thought of the 'who, what, why, and where.' Now I regretted my choice to shut down on this topic at Dr. Murphy's office because I have no idea what to feel and how to respond to it. This was definitely not what I expected when Rosalie said she wanted to talk.

"Charlie pulled me over that night. I was less than two miles away from home. After a long winded lecture and promising to talk to Peter and Charlotte, he let me go with a warning. I didn't have a record and he thought I was a good kid…I should have...begged him to lock me up for the things I had done to you," she scoffed and shook her head.

"I don't get how it's your fault; my dad was hit by a drunk driver," I said, swallowing down the lump in my throat.

"Word traveled fast, we heard about it the next day. I saw it on the morning newscast when I was eating breakfast. He was already on his way back to the station when he pulled me over. I'm the reason he didn't make it home," she whispered brokenly.

"If he didn't spend that extra time lecturing me and just arrested me or something, he would have never been hit. If it wasn't for me, he would have already been home with you or at least safe at the police station...not in the cross hairs of a fucking drunk driver. It's my fault he's gone and I'm sorry. I wish I can bring him back for you," Rosalie cried. I was speechless, my heart pounded erratically; it threatened to beat its way out of my chest. I resisted the urge to run away and decided to face that segment of my life head on.

"_No_. No, Rosalie. My dad…was…a cop," I replied just as unsteadily as unfaltering streams fell from my eyes. "He was only doing his job when you were pulled over. You weren't the asshole stupid enough to get behind the wheel while intoxicated. You weren't the one that hit him. _It is not your fault. _I don't blame you and Charlie certainly wouldn't have," I said forcefully; grasping her hands, tightly.

"I don't expect your forgiveness, Bella. I just want you to know how sorry I am…for everything. I know that will never be enough. If I was given the chance, I would do _everything _different," she said as she bowed her head, her shoulders shook with each sob.

I had no idea what to say. I couldn't imagine the guilt she must have felt, thinking that she was indirectly responsible for taking a life. As much as I hate her...or...used to hate her (I don't really know, anymore), I don't hold her responsible; she wasn't the one who crashed into the cruiser. She may have delayed him, but she didn't kill him. It was bad luck and wrong timing on her part; entirely unintentional. We sat for a while, until our tears were dry; it left us with puffy lids and red eyes.

"Rosalie, I want you to do something," I demanded when I found my voice.

"Of course."

"I want you to forgive yourself."

"I can't," she breathed out.

"Please...try. My dad was a good man, he wouldn't want you to feel guilty over something you had no power over." She nodded.

A short while later, Rosalie got up to leave; she had work before noon. I attempted to go back to sleep, but bits and pieces of my repressed memory began to reveal themselves to me as I replayed that evening in my head. I made more progress in my hour-long conversation with Rosalie, than with three years of therapy with Doc Murphy.

***

It was my third day back home from the hospital, my walls were down and I was coherent again, capable of rational thought. I no longer felt like I was in a dream. The enormity of the situation weighed upon my shoulders, my dad is really gone. I had no idea what time it was; my curtains were drawn and I ripped my alarm clock out of the wall in a fit of rage the day before. I opened the door to the hallway and noticed that all the lights were off and there was no light filtering through the windows.

I tip-toed past the guest bedroom where Renee was staying and into Dad's room. I needed a few moments in there before the movers came to pack everything up. I was soon overwhelmed with emotion. On his dresser was Renee and Dad's wedding picture. He never had the heart to put that into storage. Next to it was a framed picture of us, it was of the first time he took me fishing; I was six years old. We both wore fishing outfits and smiles a mile wide. I remember being so mad earlier that day because I looked like a boy; Sue took pity on me and French braided my pigtails and weaved baby's breath flowers into them and drew girly designs on my jacket with fabric paint. I remembered it just like it was yesterday.

"_Daddy!" I screamed. He ran over, scared out of his mind._

"_What's wrong sweetie? Are you hurt?" He asked as he examined my skin for scrapes, cuts, and/or bruises._

"_No, something's pulling on my string!" I yelled, frightened of what was on the end of it. Dad let out a sigh of relief as he and Billy laughed. He instructed me on how to reel it in and helped me when I struggled with it._

"_Billy! Do you mind taking our picture? This is Bella's first catch." Billy got the camera ready while Dad pulled the fish out of the net. The hook and fishing line were still attached to its mouth when he handed it to me. He squatted behind me and said, "I'm proud of you, sweet girl." We looked towards Billy and the flash went off. _

_Charlie released it back into the river almost immediately. When I protested, he explained to me that it was just a baby and it was too young to leave home; his mommy and daddy were probably looking for him. I relented when I started to feel guilty about fishnapping._

Laughing softly, I ran my fingers over glass and smiled sadly. I've never caught anything since then. I wish I had taken him up on his offer to go fishing two weeks ago.

I moved towards his closet and went straight for his favorite flannel shirt. This was the first Christmas present I gave to him with - technically - my own money, he wore it every chance he got. I'm surprised the shirt wasn't threadbare with how many times he's washed it. I sat on the bed, hugging it to my chest; imagining that he was there with me, hugging me back. I let out a strangled cry, careful not to wake Renee next door. I scooted towards the middle of the bed and laid my head on his pillows and eventually fell into a fitful sleep.

Renee found me the next morning, my sanity already slipping. I cleaned, did laundry, and cooked while Renee looked at me like I had gone crazy. I simply replied with a shrug, "Dad gets home at seven o'clock, I like to have dinner ready for him." She looked at me with such pity; I couldn't fathom why.

I had gone into hysterics when Renee told me why Charlie wouldn't be joining us for dinner. I locked myself in my room and refused to eat anything.

***

Well, I certainly won't be able to go back to sleep now; not with the caffeine that coursed through my system and memories that replayed in my mind, like old home movies. I needed to do something, anything to take my mind off of the last hour of my life. I decided on baking. Six hours later my kitchen was filled with red velvet cupcakes with cream cheese frosting, chocolate chip cookies, brownies, and a lemon chiffon cake with a layer of fondant with an iridescent sheen and silver fondant stars. I think Emmett will be happy.

I've already accepted Dad's death; I know he's gone and I can't bring him back. All that's left is anger and resentment towards the bitch who collided with him. The driver stole my dad from me, his or her half-baked choices will prevent me from creating future memories reserved only for fathers. My boyfriend will never be scared shitless when he asks for my hand in marriage. Charlie won't walk me down the aisle and give me away, he will miss out on the father-daughter dance, and won't embarrass me with anecdotes from my childhood when he decides he wants in on speech time. My future children will never know the kindness and big heart of their grandfather. Phil has been the best step-father in the world, but there will always be this void that he won't be able to fill no matter how hard he tries.

The anniversary is coming up again; this time I intend to be there to put flowers on his grave.

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**AN: Again, I am very sorry for the delay. Between ten-hour shifts, Halloween, the middle of football season, basketball season starting up (Go LAKERS!), and a family emergency...it just wasn't in me to create. But, things are kinda getting back to normal, so updates won't be so few and far between. If I got some information mixed up in this chapter; please let me know so I can correct it. Also, if something doesn't make sense to you, let me know so I can clarify or reword the sentence, paragraph, or entire chapter.  
If you don't know who Logan Marshall-Green is, look him up after _Dark Blue_ aired; he wasn't so attractive before that. I just want to lick him.**

**Thanks for reading!**

**Review please!**

**-Luckky-**


	7. Chapter 7

**I know! I'm a bitch! Go ahead, hate me. I'm so sorry for the delay. I decided to try out Windows 7, but it didn't work out so well with my computer. So, I switched back to XP and it crashed... yeeeeaaahhh, f*cking Microsoft! I didn't have enough funds to buy a new HD and RAM because I had to buy new tires after one blew out on me. Stranded on the shoulder of a busy SoCal freeway... on a cold night, soooo not cool. CHP pulled over to check on me. Officer F*ckMePlease told my friend and I to keep our seatbelts on in case someone slams into my car. FML.**

**Thank you for the reviews, alerts and faves. You guys rock! I think I replied to all of the last chapter's reviews. If not, I'm sorry; it wasn't my intention to ignore you.**

**I don't have a beta, so please excuse any grammatical and punctuation errors you may come across.**

**Okay, let's get on with it.**

**..Don't own it, never will..**

**Happy reading!**

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_Fears are nothing but a state of mind._  
- Napoleon Hill

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It's been over two weeks since Rosalie's confession and my mind was still reeling. If it wasn't for Alice's insistence for social activity, I would have become a hermit scouring the internet and backing up Forks PD's phone lines for any information regarding the crash. After years of being in the dark about it, I developed an overwhelming need for knowledge. In an effort to distract me from the baffling revelation, Alice packed my schedule with lunches, dinners, shopping, sightseeing, anything that would avert my attention from my conversation with Rosalie; she wouldn't take "no" for an answer. I haven't confided in her about that mindfuck of a day, but somehow she knew that something was off and I was grateful that she hadn't questioned me. I wasn't sure I would be able to keep it together if I told her about it.

I had acknowledged each of their apologies, but I had yet to forgive them. I know it was selfish of me to continue to accept their friendship and ignore their pleas of absolution, but I still had a hard time reconciling the fact that those kind and friendly people were the same vile fuckers that were hell-bent on driving me to the brink of insanity. But, I had been working on it; every moment that I spent with them over the two weeks brought me closer to the point of forgiveness.

Sometimes I forgot why I had decided to come back in the first place. I think it would have been easier if I had just run home with my tail between my legs and begged Renee and Phil to foot the bill for UC Berkeley. But, everyday when I put that locket around my neck, I was reminded of my father. His resilience, drive, and inability to back down in the presence of a difficult or unsavory situation reminded me of the kind of person I can only aspire to be. It would have been a little easier if I had someone here to support me through all of this, though.

I usually called Kate when I needed advice or a boost of morale because she was the most level-headed and rational person in our tight quartet. I would constantly battle with indecisiveness; I weighed the pros and cons of a situation or item until someone made the decision for me. Tanya was crass and protective, a hard ass with an "if they don't like it, then fuck them" attitude. She was like a mama bear that was fiercely protective of her cubs. Her advice would have been an eye for an eye, tit for tat. Angela was too sweet for her own good. Her non-confrontational nature would suggest that I turn a blind eye to any past misdeeds. Angie would have told me to let go of my anger and resentment, and just forgive them for being childish idiots. Yeah, not likely.

Caught up in the excitement of the last-minute scholarship and the imminent move to Seattle, I forgot to ask Kate for her advice before I left Phoenix in the event that I do come face-to-face with the past. But, how was I supposed to know that they would be living in Seattle, let alone across the hall? I realized that I could have contacted her after my "happy" reunion with Alice or even after that awkward dinner, but I was engrossed with surprises, anxiety, revenge, revelations, avoidance activities and now, school.

I felt like a horrible friend. I was so swamped with school work that I couldn't even take ten minutes out of my day to call, text, or email any of the girls who kept me sane during my years in Arizona. I had no idea when classes started for them, but mine started on Monday and I was already up to my eyeballs in research papers, short stories, and math problems. I wondered if Kate is even allowed any sleep; she's on an accelerated RN program which meant that her curriculum must be grueling. I wouldn't want to worry her and add on to her stress with my problems. I would have to find my own way, for once; which is easier said than done. I became so dependent on her advice that I was virtually crippled in the face of a problem without her guidance.

The bright side of being so busy was that I didn't have much time to dwell on my rampant imagination and stray thoughts.

Monday and Wednesday brought me to my ethics and European literature classes. Ethics was enlightening and I couldn't wait to get more in depth, but some of that logic made me want to pull my hair out in frustration. European lit will be a piece of cake; I was already acquainted with most of the titles that were listed on the syllabus. Unfortunately, getting the TA off my ass won't be so easy; I flashed him one _friendly_ smile and he practically humped my leg like a dog. Michael Newton, with his boyish good looks and toned body, was a cocky son of an asshole with "entitled frat boy" written all over his smug face. Although I was flattered to garner the attention of the class hottie, his personality made me want to blow my ear drums out just so I wouldn't have to hear him talk about how awesome he was. I almost ripped his head off after he mentioned his father's beach house in Maui for the twentieth time in the past hour. There was nothing I hated more in a guy, than a prick who knows he's good looking and flaunted his money; they tend to think they were God's gift to women. He reminded me of my most recent ex, Riley... ass; we hadn't parted on pleasant or even semi-pleasant terms.

Tuesday and Thursday brought me algebra and creative writing. I may be a genius with words, but numbers have the ability to turn me into a bumbling idiot. I think the last time I got an 'A' in math was when I was in third grade. Wasn't it ironic that the sections that I struggled with the most were, and still are, the ones that included _word_ problems? Riddles were easy, but as soon as one mixed words, letters, and numbers... I would have fallen faster than Superman in the presence of kryptonite. Those fuckers are tricky.

Unlike the whole experience with Mike Newton, I wouldn't have minded if I caught the attention of Tyler Crowley, the algebra TA. I would have been drooling if I wasn't so shy to openly gawk at him like every other female (and some males) in the room. Crowley was HOT. Don't get me wrong he's no Edward Cullen, but he was definitely a close second. Tyler was the personification of tall, dark, and handsome. From what I saw over his dark demin jeans and tight, white t-shirt, he had a body worthy of a Calvin Klein ad and a smile that should have been captured in a toothpaste commercial. His clean-shaven face showcased a set of dimples every time he smiled, which made the females, including Professor Grace DeSantos, swoon and sigh in contentment. The black and red riding jacket that hung off of the back of his chair and the helmet that was at his feet confirmed my suspicions that a motorcycle probably awaited his return out in the parking lot. At least, I hoped it was a motorcycle and not a moped. I would hate to make that mistake twice... another story for another time. The scar between his #3 buzz cut and thick eyebrows only added to the bad-boy effect that he flawlessly pulled off. Hopefully, I would be able to scrape up enough courage to ask him if he tutored; Lord knows I was in desperate need of help in that department.

Creative writing was a refreshing change to the tedious research papers and mundane literature essays that I have been bombarded with. This class was a chance for me to let my creative juices flow and lose myself in the creation of a story. I had the power to rewrite my own history to my liking. I would be able to destroy people and worlds just as easily as I create them. Professor Reed assigned plot and character development, along with a short story to sample her students' writing styles. The final for this quarter is a mutli-chapter story based on the development paper and I couldn't wait to get started.

Although I was excited to start my classes and become a genuine college girl, I was glad that today was Friday. The exhilaration of this past week and the three-inch stack of school-related papers that sat on my coffee table, wiped me out. I probably should have to used the weekend for a little rest and relaxation or to get used to my new schedule, but I couldn't resist implementing my new plans for Edward, Jasper, and maybe Rosalie. Operation Vengeance was now the poor man's version of _Scare Tactics_. The Louis purse fiasco left a bad taste in my mouth and a heaviness on my conscience. It made my stomach churn and was the source of a ton of unnecessary stress. If I had continued with that course of action, I was sure that I would be riddled with ulcers by the time I got through with them.

I was losing daylight hours because I was still lying in bed, being lazy. I grabbed my phone from my nightstand and dialed Emmett. After a quick conversation and the assurance that he would be at my place by five this evening, I hung up and called Alice. She agreed to accompany me to the store for tonight's surprise.

I dragged myself to the bathroom and felt a small smile creep up on my lips; I still couldn't get over the enormity of it. With my sock-covered feet, I slid across the glossy-tiled floor because a cartwheel would have been life threatening. I wanted to pull a _Risky Business_ slide and it seemed so simple; it ended with my ass making contact with the floor.

_Ugh...I think I just damaged my tailbone._

Showered, dressed, and ready to go, I limped across the hall to pick up Alice.

"So, what are we getting today?" Alice asked as she took me by surprise and opened the door with a flourish. I jumped and let out a little squeak because I wasn't paying attention; my finger was poised at the doorbell while I ran through a mental list of things that I needed to pick up.

After I took a few seconds to compose myself, I answered, "Uh, ingredients for dinner, mousetraps, and a sleep mask."

"Mousetraps?! You have mice!" Her voice raised a few octaves and a look of panic flashed across her face. "Oh my god! Call the exterminator or something! Crap, I hope they don't get over here, those creepy little rodents make me cringe. Fuck, what if they crawl through the vents or chew their way through the walls?! I'm calling management right now." She looked towards my door, no doubt checking to see if it was closed, then dug around in her purse for her cell phone.

"No, no, no... relax. The traps are for... props." Alice shot me a look that implied she hadn't believed a word I said. I couldn't blame her; I hadn't let her in on my plans, yet. "I'll tell you about it later."

***

Two hours later, I was back in my apartment getting things ready for dinner. Other than the embarrassment that came with buying mousetraps in bulk and the hilarious giggle fit Alice went through as I explained my plan for the traps, the trip to the store was uneventful. Alice promised to call Rosalie, Jasper, and Edward to let them know where they will be tonight. Like I had already mentioned, she doesn't take "no" for an answer.

The doorbell rang during the preparations for chicken cordon bleu, so I rinsed my hands and took off my apron before jogging to the door. It was Emmett with my special delivery. He was holding up a plastic tank with a blue, slotted lid while he raised his left eyebrow at me.

"Wanna tell me what you plan on doing with a tarantula, Bells?" Emmett asked, smiling. Ever since I called him over to polish off my "avoidance desserts" he's made himself more comfortable around me. He usually sets up camp on my couch on Sunday afternoons and Monday nights for football; I don't really mind, he keeps me entertained. He had a habit of telling me stories about his experiences with ridiculous frat hazing. Despite the fact that his potential frat brothers humiliated him and other human beings, I found that the sheer idiocy of his situations were hilarious. One had to have a strong sense of self-esteem if they were to put themselves through all that bullshit.

Emmett also revealed to me his oddball roommate that he had lived with during his freshman year, before he moved into the Escala with Alice. Not wanting to deal with a dorm curfew, Emmett opted to look for an apartment. The guy he had shared the space with had more insects than Gil Grissom, not to mention the snakes, spiders and furry little animals of the rodent family. That was how I came up with the idea of my current scheme.

"Alice told me Jasper was scared of spiders," I answered, then ushered him in after he snorted a laugh; I didn't want to chance the likelihood of someone eavesdropping. I knew that Edward had practice on Fridays and wasn't due back for another half hour, but Jasper and Rosalie tended to drop by unannounced to spend time with their significant other.

"Really?" He asked, dragging out the word. "Interesting," he finished, slowly, with a mischievous glint in his eyes, while he tapped his chin with his index finger. I half expected him to let out an evil cackle.

I laughed softly. "Let's put that thing in the kitchen."

Emmett stayed for a while and talked to me as he watched me flit around the kitchen trying to get dinner ready in time. After I promised him my piece of the berry crumble pie for his silence, Emmett took off to get a little homework done before dinner. I grabbed the appropriate amount of forks, spoons and knives from the drawer and stashed it in a cabinet. I pulled on dish gloves and eyed the tank that held the gigantic spider. Every time I made a move, it shifted its position to match mine. Its beady little eyes never left my face. Creepy. I moved left to right, zig zagging on my walk over to the tank to test a theory; I was right, it was playing defense. As long as it didn't go on the offense, it was all good. The tag on clear part of the lid indicated that the tarantula's name was Venom.

The size of that thing, coupled with a name like that, would have had some people shitting bricks_._ I was glad I had these gloves; I knew that these creatures weren't poisonous, but with my luck, I'd probably have an allergic reaction to the small amount of venom it would inject if it bit me. Better safe than winding up in the ER... again. As soon as I lifted the lid, Venom reacted by raising his two front legs and flashed his fangs in warning. I attempted to soothe it by humming a song that's been stuck in my head all day, _Fuck You Right Back_ by Frankee, but it grew more aggravated. I assumed it was because I was tone deaf.

The doorbell rang; it signaled the arrival of my guests. I gave up with Venom and just dumped him in the utensils drawer. I hid the tank on one of the bar stools underneath the island counter in the middle of the kitchen and left the pair of gloves on another.

Maybe I should have invested in an AED, an automated external defibrillator, in case Jasper goes into cardiac arrest from shock and stress. I hoped he only had an aversion to eight-legged creatures and not suffering from full-blown arachnophobia.

I opened the door, and took in all the smiles directed towards me. They were all so... pretty and very well dressed. My attire for dinner at a friend's house would include sweatpants, a hoodie, and sneakers. Rosalie was in a simple, black, turtleneck sweater dress, a white peacoat and leather boots that came up under her knees. Alice layered a red burnout tank with a black magnolia on the front and a white tank underneath. Dark-washed, skinny jeans and black, patent leather ballet flats completed her look. Jasper looked like he was dressed by Alice; a red shirt from OBEY, a gray Members Only jacket, dark jeans and Diesel shoes that resembled a Converse design. Emmett actually wore a very nice, casual button-down shirt with black Dickies pants and... socks. No shoes, just socks. I gave him a quizzical look and gestured to his feet.

"What? I've been on my feet all day; I didn't feel like wearing shoes. Plus, I live like ten feet away from your front door and the hallway is carpeted. It's not like I'm going barefoot, I do have socks on," he said, like we were the crazy ones. Everyone, except Rosalie, shook their heads and let out a chuckle. Rosalie frowned and gave him a disapproving look.

The sound of smooth, deep laughter registered within my brain and I looked over to find its owner. Edward had a large smile on his face and was wearing a fitted, heather-blue, short-sleeve shirt that brought attention to his toned biceps and the faint outline of his muscular chest. I wondered if he had a six-pack hiding under there, as well. His slim straight-leg jeans sat low on his hips and I began to wonder what kind of heat he was packing, if you catch my drift. My internal voice took on the personality of Mae West. _Is that a pistol in your pocket or are you just glad to see me?_ He wore a pair of black and white Chuck Taylors on his feet; a man after my own heart. It was hard to hate him when he looked like that... and smiled at me like that.

"Hey, Bella. Thanks for inviting us over, again." ...and it was _really_ hard to hate him when he talked to me like that. He had a voice that was perfect for one of those kinky hotlines, 1-800-SEX-ME69. Not that I had any knowledge of that kind of stuff._ Fuck,_ _I can feel my panties melting off my body._ I stood in that doorway staring at Edward, open-mouthed, and probably drooling until someone cleared their throat. I snapped out of my trance and felt my face heat up as I discreetly wiped my mouth.

_Fuck, I just got caught checking him out in front of everyone. _

Edward gave me a crooked smile that I would have liked to kiss or lick off, if given the opportunity.

_You're supposed to hate him, Bella. _Oh, yeah... right.

"Sorry, come in. I was running a little late, so I didn't have time to set the table. Can you guys help me in the kitchen, please?" I had effectively changed the subject and the last three minutes of my life was forgotten. They followed my lead and walked to the kitchen via the living room. Rosalie carried out a set of salad plates and the Caesar salad, Alice took care of the main course and dessert, I gave Edward the rest of the plates, napkins and the rice pilaf. Emmett carried a tray of empty glasses and I followed with a pitcher of iced tea. Jasper was right behind me.

"Crap! Jasper can you get the forks and knives, please? They're in the second drawer on the right hand side of the stove. Thanks!" I hurried to the table to set the pitcher down. The rest were busy setting out the plates and glasses while Emmett shot a knowing look my way. Seemingly out of nowhere, a high-pitched, girlish scream that was reminiscent of old horror movies, came from the kitchen. Jasper bolted through the doorway and immediately used Alice as a human shield.

"What the fuck is wrong with you?" A confused looking Edward asked. Alice and Rosalie looked concerned, but theirs mouths twitched as they fought off grins. Emmett was already bursting at the seams with laughter; tears formed in his eyes. I could already tell that Jasper was going to be catching a lot of shit from Emmett. I practically saw the wheels turning in his head as he thought of ways to prank Jasper with spiders.

"Bi-big. Tall," Jasper stuttered. Tall? What the heck? His pale face was drained of all color; he looked like the living dead. Jasper's blue eyes were wide and a thin layer of sweat began to form on his forehead, while his breathing became labored.

_Oh. Shit. He's going to go into cardiac arrest, I knew it! Fuck! I'm going to end up killing him. Forget ulcers, I'm gonna have a heart attack if he keels over and dies. He was an asshole, but that doesn't mean I want him dead. I can't go to jail, I can't be someone's bitch!_

"What the hell happened? Will you spit it out already?!" Rosalie demanded. Alice pacified her man with light touches, kisses, and whispers, but his eyes were still set on the doorway like he had expected Venom to crawl into the room.

"There's a, uh, big sp-spide-spider in the, um, ki-kitchen," he stammered. Alice turned towards me and raised her eyebrows, a small smile tugged at the corners of her mouth. Her shoulders slightly shook with laughter. If Alice wasn't too worried about it, maybe I should calm down a notch.

"Are you laughing at me?" Jasper asked sadly, his mouth in a frown.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to. But, the last time you said there was a big spider, it turned out to be a daddy long leg that was barely bigger than a half dollar... legs included! It was easily squishable, honey," she explained. The room erupted in laughter. Me being me, I started to feel bad when Jasper was red in the face with embarrassment.

"Sorry, a neighbor asked me to watch his tarantula for him. He said that Venom needed to be fed tomorrow and he was going out of town." I pulled that lie off effectively because they were still laughing at Jasper's expense; not paying much attention to me.

"You have a _hungry_, monster tarantula named _Venom_ in your home?!" Jasper exclaimed, his usually deep voice reached a falsetto. He had let go of Alice and jumped onto one of my dining chairs. The others just laughed harder. I started to hear gasps coming from Emmett; he had run out of air from laughing so long and hard. "Uh, I think I'm just gonna head home."

"What?! Twenty minutes ago, you were starving and couldn't wait for dinner!" Rosalie accused her cousin.

"Yeah, but not with that mutant spider here! That thing is bigger than my face!" Jasper exaggerated.

"OKAY! I'm sorry! The lid must have not been closed properly and he crawled out. I'll go get him. Jasper, you can get off the chair now, he's not going to come in here and eat you," I said, as I walked towards the kitchen.

"How do you know?!" He said. I rolled my eyes.

"Where did you see him last?" I called out when I couldn't find the spider where it was supposed to be; he answered immediately. I saw that Venom had crawled out of the open drawer and onto the stove. I pulled on those dish gloves then grabbed Venom's temporary home from the bar stool. There was no freaking way I was going to pick up that behemoth with my hands, gloves or no. I set the tank on its side and used the lid to gently nudge Venom in the right direction; he hadn't taken too kindly to that subtle command and once again raised his two front legs.

_I guess it does look tall when it's like that_.

I could have sworn it hissed at me. Not wanting to deal with that temperamental spider, I scooped him up using both the lid and the container, then snapped it shut. I grabbed the utensils that I hid in the cabinet and walked out; forks, spoons, and knives in my right hand and the tank in the other.

Jasper's back was turned; he must have let his guard down when he hadn't heard a peep of distress from me. Emmett was still chuckling to himself, Edward was shaking his head, and Rosalie and Alice calmed down long enough to ask Jasper questions. I stopped behind Jasper and spoke.

"Alright, I got these from the dishwasher, so they're clean," I said, raising my right arm. "And pest control is complete," I claimed, raising my left hand in Jasper's face, showing him the clear container, as soon as he turned around.

He let out a yelp and stumbled backwards while he tripped over his own feet. Once again, he stood behind his woman and not in that sweet way a guy would back up his girl for support.

"Bigger than your face, Jasper?" Edward laughed. He was right, the tarantula could have fit perfectly in Edward's large hand.

"Jasper, relax. It's in the tank! See?" I said as I thrust the container in his face. He flinched and cowered behind Alice. Jasper eyed the tank warily and looked like he was ready to bail. "Alice, can you finish setting the table? I'm going to put him in the living room."

As I walked out, I heard Jasper shout, "Make sure to tape it shut or put a book on top or something, so he can't crawl out again!" The dining room, once again, exploded in laughter. I chuckled to myself as I set my ethics book on top of it.

***

Dinner was hilarious; we all cracked jokes at Jasper's expense. A couple times during dinner, Alice softly trailed her fingernails on his arm; he jerked in his seat, and hurriedly brushed the feeling away. Jasper was a good sport; he laughed along with us when he felt more comfortable and was confident that there would not be a second encounter. And as I promised, Emmett got my share of the pie for his silence in that matter. These people were actually fun to be around when they weren't ruining lives. We sat around the table and talked about nothing of consequence and time flew by. Jasper and Rosalie excused themselves around midnight.

"Thank you for dinner, Bella. Goodnight." Rosalie gave me a one-armed hug; even with the progress in our precarious and dynamic relationship, we still weren't comfortable with that much contact.

Jasper enveloped me in his arms and gave me a tight hug.

_He's going to squeeze the life out of me for the stunt I pulled ealier, I just know it. _

"No more spider-sitting," he murmured. I snickered.

"Thank you, Bella. 'Night," he said before he dropped a kiss onto the top of my head and followed Rosalie out. I know I should have been panicked or repulsed, but the endorphin high from laughing so much made me feel like that sort of interaction was normal between us. Great, now I had something else to figure out: when did I become so comfortable that it felt like we had done that for years?

"Hey, I'm gonna head home, too. I had practice earlier and I'm beat," Edward yawned out. His eyes were half closed and bloodshot while his body swayed and struggled to stand up straight; this guy was dead on his feet.

"Alright, goodnight."

"Goodnight. Thank you," he said sleepily. He hugged me softly and kissed my forehead. I was still standing in the foyer, stunned, when I heard the door close.

_I'm experiencing an endorphin high. They are the reason why I feel happy._

"Hey, Bella, the dining room is all cleaned up and the dishes are in the sink. Are you okay?"

"Um, yeah. Thanks, Alice. Where's Emmett?"

"Eating the leftovers," she replied with an eye roll.

"I thought so. Oh, I wanted to ask you... can I sleep over tonight?"

"Yes!" She exclaimed loudly and squealed. "I didn't think you were the type to go to sleep overs. I haven't had one in a while! My other friends would use a night like that to get into Edward's bed or something and Rosalie's been busy with work. Not to mention every time she sleeps over, she ends up bunking with Em. This is going to be so much fun! I think I still have chocolate ice cream in the fridge and popcorn in the pantry. What kind of movies do you like? I have romantic, adventure, horror, comedy, ac-"

"Alice! I was actually thinking that you could help me out with what I told you about earlier."

"Ohhh, wasn't that for next week?"

"Yeah, but I'm on a roll. Luck is on my side; tonight went off without a hitch. I need you to make sure that he's fast asleep; I don't want any chances of him waking up and catching us. Oh, and fill Emmett in; I know he's going to be in our business once we get started."

"Sure thing!" Alice replied. "Emmett! Let's go, I have to tell you something!" She yelled. For someone so tiny, she had a voice that would rival a loudspeaker. I began to hear a ringing in my ears.

"Okay, I'm ready. Thanks for the food and entertainment, Bells!" He said as he picked me up off the floor in a bone crushing hug. I felt my eyes pop out from the pressure. "We gotta do this again, sometime. Whaddaya say?" Emmett requested. I couldn't utter a word. I couldn't even take in a breath. I started to lose control of my limbs from oxygen deprivation.

"Bells?" He questioned.

"Emmett, put her down! She's starting to turn purple," Alice said.

"Oh, shit! My bad." He gave me a big, wet, sloppy kiss on my cheek and let me go. Alice shook her head, hugged me and air kissed the other side of my face.

"I'll see you in a while, Bella," she said as I closed the door after them. I proceeded to the kitchen to load the dishwasher with the contents of the sink and drawer.

On my way to my room, I placed another book on top of the plastic box that held Spiderman's enemy... just in case.

Scheme #1: complete. On to the next!

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**AN: No angsty BS in this chapter. I think we've had enough tears for a while, yes? **

**I hope to get back to the regular Monday updates by January 18. That date for two reason: 1) The holidays are coming up (obviously), so my head won't be in the game, so to speak, and 2) The first two full weeks in January are reserved for Vegas and probably a snowboarding trip.**

**Go Lakers! 16-3, 9-game W streak. Sweet!**

**Question: Has anyone else had a streak of bad luck lately or is it just me? I should change my pen name.**

**Thanks for reading!**

**Let me know what you think.**

**-(un)Luckky-**


	8. Chapter 8

**Hi! Happy holidays and welcome back! Thanks for sticking with the story even though I stretched the truth about posting dates. I love the reviews, keep them coming because they make my day brighter even when I'm dealing with pretentious customers who have their heads stuck up their asses =D  
Thank you to those of you who added this (and me) to your alerts and faves =)**

**I got a little wordy on this one, so the chapter is over 6k (excluding ANs).**

**Please remember that this is rated M. Language and dirty minds in this chapter may be offensive if you're not used to hearing or reading it.**

**..Don't own it, never will..**

**This is the last chapter that I will be posting _this year_, so enjoy it!**

**Happy reading!**

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_Lust's passion will be served; it demands, it militates, it tyrannizes._  
- Marquis de Sade

* * *

I hadn't necessarily gotten over my fear of public humiliation, but going out with the Cullens, Hale and Whitlock was not as bad as I thought it would have been. We had laughed, cracked asinine jokes, and left the "good old days" where it should be - in the past. We hadn't made any future plans and felt content to just live in the moment. We had found new things to talk about each day and often forgot what was said the day before. It was a relief to feel relatively normal again.

The last two weeks in Edward's presence had changed the way I looked at him. He was no longer that prepubescent and immature boy that had treated me no better than a dog. He had been sweet, attentive, and showed me that chivalry was not dead by constantly opening doors and holding out chairs for me. I half-expected him to remove his jacket and lay it over a puddle for me to walk over. He bought a bouquet of white tulips for me and I was tempted to hit him over the head with it to show him that my forgiveness couldn't be bought. But, the flowers were too pretty to be ruined by violence and he offered no explanation other than "I wanted to." No apologies. No expectations. It almost made me rethink this whole retaliation business... almost. Payback's a bitch and with all that they had put me through, I think I'm entitled to a little bit of it.

I gathered everything from the guest bedroom after I slipped my feet into my fuzzy slippers and dragged them out to the front door along with my pillow and quilt. As soon as I opened the door I was met with a dark wall that had eyes and teeth. I jumped back and screamed at the top of my lungs.

"Shh! You'll wake the neighbors!" He whispered. I glared at him.

_That was the point, asswipe._

"Emmett, what the hell?! You scared the shit out of me!" I hissed. He looked ridiculous and stuck out like a sore thumb against the serene blue walls and wheat colored Berber carpet of the twenty-ninth floor hallway. If one of our neighbors caught him out here while he looked like that, he'd probably spend the night in lockup explaining his idiocy. From the pair of Reebok shoes on his feet to the leather gloves that shielded his unique identity, the fool's color preference was a monotone black. A beanie covered his dark curls and I imagined that it would pull down into a ski mask. The only thing more absurd than his get-up was the fact that every inch of visible skin was darker than midnight.

"What the heck is on your face?"

"Eye black, duh." He rolled his eyes at me. "Alice didn't have enough eyeshadow; it was either this or a Sharpie."

"Why do you have it on in the first place? Are you planning on a B & E?"

"We gotta go in covert, Bells. I'm dressed for the part. You? Not so much," he said as he let his eyes roam up and down my body. He made me feel like I was under dressed. Considering my attire at the time, I was practically naked. My black camisole and green sleep shorts didn't leave very much the imagination. The cold air from the hallway made my nipples pucker and protrude behind my sports bra and flimsy piece of cotton that passed off as my top. I shifted uncomfortably from his leering.

"Will you quit checking her out and get back over here?!" Alice called out from across the hall.

"I wasn't checking her out," Emmett grumbled as he reached out for the plastic bags. I walked out into the hallway and locked the door behind me, leaving Emmett to follow. I could have sworn that I heard him whisper "damn."

"Did you say something," I asked, turning to look back at him. His eyes snapped up to mine and his pale cheeks flushed an adorable rosy-pink. It didn't take a rocket scientist to figure out what he had been staring at. I rolled my eyes. Typical_._ I knew I should have worn pajama pants instead, but sleeping with that much fabric on my legs made it uncomfortable. The way the material would twist around my legs at night made me toss and turn more than usual; I have the same problem with loose fitting tops. Once, I woke up to see those items of clothing on the floor, halfway across the room; I was left in nothing but underwear. That morning felt like one of those cliché one-night stands, without the actual hookup.

We walked through the open door as Alice informed me that they had extra pillows and blankets. I shrugged, not knowing what to say. I had never been to a sleepover, not even in Phoenix.

I placed my sleeping gear down on the living room couch and took a look around. I was confused because the Cullen's place looked significantly smaller than my condo; the only thing that was identical was the floor-to-ceiling windows. I understood Emmett's comment about more walls, the rooms must look like shoe boxes. Their living room was half the size of mine and cluttered with the belongings of three people. Picture frames, books, mail, decorative objects and half-dead houseplants littered the living room.

"The previous owners of your condo did a little construction last August. You're supposed to have three bedrooms, 3.5 baths, and a den along with everything else," Alice said when she noticed my confusion. She had been in my home countless times these past three weeks, but this was the first time I had been inside of their condo. I had been a little uncomfortable around them, so I never made the effort to invite myself over and aimed to decline any invitations.

"And my closet is as big as the half bath," she finished, distaste evident on her small elf-like face. She was jealous of my personal mall.

"They must have spent thousands on renovations. Why did they sell?"

"From what I heard, the husband sold it and put the money into an account in the Caymans to hide it from his wife. They were getting a divorce - no prenup."

"Wouldn't she have to be notified if the condo was listed?"

"Yeah, but it was in his name. I don't blame him, though; his wife was a total gold digger."

"And you know this because...?" I asked. It was like one of those trashy soap opera story lines that I couldn't get enough of. It was refreshing to focus on someone else's problem.

"Aro was an ugly and unpleasant man, but he had more money than Trump. Selene dressed like she had just come into some money. Always with the bling and flash and clothes with the brand plastered everywhere! Yuck. Her jewelry was gaudy and tacky, loved to mix animal prints and other patterns, and had a full face of makeup at ten in the morning. She was an over processed, big-haired, bottle blond with a surgically enhanced chest and a tan that looked more orange than brown. I saw at least five different guys entering and leaving that place in one month. Wifey always said goodbye by ramming her tongue down their throats and giving the guy a little ass squeeze. We have a peep hole in the door, remember? It was way better than watching _Days of Our Lives_. She fucked like clockwork, so it was easy to figure out her schedule."

"What's the plan, Bells?" Emmett interrupted before I could grill Alice about the details. I was never one for gossip, but that piece was too juicy to pass up. I only had the opportunity to watch those scenarios on TV and in movies, never realizing that it actually happens in real life... well, not around me, anyway. Emmett was still holding onto the plastic bags and vibrating with excitement.

"Is Edward asleep?" I questioned.

"Yup, he went down for the count about an hour ago. I just wanted to make sure that he was really sleeping," Alice said.

"Good, I don't want him walking in on us. Let's take everything out of their packaging, so we won't have to deal with that while we're setting up his room."

Emmett ripped his gloves off when it started to hinder his ability to open up boxes and plastic bags.

"What's this?" He asked, holding up a black tray that was the size of his palm.

"Don't touch it!" I warned; he did it anyway. He stuck four fingers of his right hand into the thick, glue-like substance. In the end, Emmett didn't want to wait for the cooking oil to counteract the stickiness, so he just ripped the trap off. He bellowed in pain and we berated him for his inability to stay quiet, not even asking if he was alright.

"Fuck, that's worse than a wax strip," he stated, shaking his fingers out to get rid of the stinging sensation. "I think it ripped my fingerprints off."

"And what would you know about wax strips?" I asked, amused by the idea. I recalled a specific scene from _The 40-Year-Old Virgin_ and laughed hysterically - _"Ahhh! Kelly Clarkson!"_

"Rosie made me do it." He blushed in embarrassment and stayed silent for a few minutes.

"What part did you get waxed?" I asked.

"Awesome execution with Venom and Jasper," he avoided the question and laughed as he changed the subject of his mortifying experience. I decided to let it slide for the time being, but I made a mental note to hound him about it at a more appropriate time.

"Thanks. It was worth it to hear him scream like a school girl. By the way, you're gonna have to take Venom back ASAP. I could have sworn it was tapping on the tank with the intent to break out and bite me."

"You know, as much as I hate to see Jazz uncomfortable like that... it was freaking hilarious. I'll probably have to be on my hands and knees, apologizing, for laughing at him. Oooh, maybe he can tie me up for being a bad girl," Alice said, smirking.

"I DIDN'T WANT TO KNOW THAT!" Emmett yelled while he covered his ears. We both admonished him for the volume of his voice for the second time in five minutes. "Well, I don't! You're my little sister, I shouldn't have to hear about your sexcapades," he justified in a loud whisper. "You shouldn't even be having sex!" He hissed.

"Oh, please! At least we have the decency to wait for an empty house before we go at it; unlike you and Rose. I had to bleach my brain out to forget those noises coming from your room last night," she declared with a shudder.

"You could have just left, ya know," he replied.

"I am not gonna be run out of my own condo by two sex addicts who don't know a thing about self-control," she scoffed. It looked like this verbal sparring would continue throughout the night, so I stepped in.

"We're all set; point me in the direction of Eddie's room."

I carefully tip-toed over to the door; I didn't want to trip over something in my haste and wake the victim. We were lucky that he hadn't woken up from the noise that Emmett had been making earlier. My heart started to pound furiously when I grabbed the door knob. I turned it and slowly pushed the door open, Alice and Emmett followed close behind.

Edward's room was not what I expected it to be. Dirty clothes weren't strewn across the floor, there weren't any posters of half-naked women plastered on his walls and his desk was kept neat, clean and organized. His textbooks were kept in order by height, the silver MacBook Pro sat in the middle with a stack of papers to the left and his iPod on the right. A six-drawer chest stood to the right of what I assumed was the closet. The basics were kept on top; a bottle of cologne shaped like a teardrop, keys, wallet, and loose change. He kept a picture of his family taped to his mirror. Cute.

I closed the door to the en suite bathroom; it was letting in too much light from the windows.

His room was definitely cleaner than mine. Two days ago, I found a pair of ballet flats that I had been looking for during the previous week; it had been shoved underneath my bed. The clothes that I had worn earlier were still scattered on the floor, waiting to be thrown into the hamper that I kept in the laundry room.

His bed was pushed into the corner, next to the window, to maximize space. It dawned on me that his room was exactly the size of my closet. Edward was lying on his stomach, hugging a pillow, and his bed sheet was halfway down his back. I was mesmerized by the way his pale skin and bronze/brown hair glowed in the moonlight. He looked ethereal, like a mythical creature. Fearing that he would vanish if I blinked, I trained my eyes on him.

"Bella?" I heard Alice whisper.

"Okay," I whispered, "put sticky traps around his bed. I'm gonna go mess with his alarm clock and put the mask on him." I saw Alice nod in agreement. "Emmett? Got it?!"

"Yes," he said, exasperated.

"Hey, it's not my fault that I can't see you nod."

"That was the whole point, Bella. To get in and out, unseen," he replied, condescendingly.

_Ass._

I crept over to Edward's lone nightstand and turned his alarm clock on to sound off at four-thirty in the morning, three hours from now. Turning to my left, I watched as Edward's lips began to pucker, as if he were expecting to taste the sweetness of another's lips. I felt like I was compelled to press my lips firmly against his, to give into that silent demand. He shifted onto his back and caused the dark blue bed sheet to settle just below his hips. I stopped fumbling with the sleep mask because my eyes were glued to his body. A smattering of hair dusted the muscular-looking planes of his chest; I watched with rapt attention while it rose and fell with each of his even breaths. My eyes followed the hard lines of his body and my mouth hung open as I took in the sight of his washboard six-pack abs. I wanted to trace each line with my tongue and follow that treasure trail with my mouth. I wanted to bite that 'V' cut at his hips and hear him groan in submission.

_Is it me or is it getting a little hot in here?_

"Bella, what's taking so long?" Alice whispered. I looked back at her, sheepish. She gave me a knowing smirk and I was glad for the inky darkness because I blushed furiously. That was the second time that I had gotten caught checking him out in a twelve hour period.

I turned back to the task at hand. His shifting onto his back actually made it easier for me to attempt to get the mask onto his head and over his eyes. I leaned over and gingerly lifted his head. His hair was soft and I scolded myself for wanting to run my fingers through it... and wanting to tug on it while his head was between my thi-

"Bella," he mumbled. I froze, not even daring to finish that thought; I was sure that he heard what I was thinking. The rustling noises that Alice and Emmett were making came to an abrupt halt. I steeled myself for the inevitable explosion of angry and hurtful words. Slowly, I dropped my eyes expecting to see blazing green irises staring back at my brown ones. Imagine my surprise when his long, thick lashes were still dusting the tops of his cheeks. I let out a breath and stood up, letting go of his head.

"Jeez, he sleeps like the dead. I think he's dreaming," I informed my accomplices.

"I wonder which positions he's had you in; he's smiling like a Cheshire," Emmett said from the foot of the bed.

"Shut it!" I whispered, embarrassed from thinking the same thing. "Start setting the snap traps."

"In a minute, I'm just gonna set the camera up."

"That's a little pervy, Em," Alice said.

"What? It's not like he's gonna beat his meat in his sleep," He retorted, while he attempted to get a good angle from Edward's bookshelf.

I had never pegged Edward as an avid reader; magazines and textbooks for necessity maybe, but this was ridiculous! He had more books on his shelves than I have on mine. I stepped closer to get a better look at his collection. His taste in books covered a broad spectrum; it ran from Dostoyevsky, Rand and Tolstoy to Grisham, Patterson and Rankin: classics to crime. I internally sighed when my eyes came across a few books written by Sparks and small a collection of _Chicken Soup for the Soul_. Did that mean that he was sensitive? The top shelf held a football that was autographed by Matt Hasselbeck, a few framed pictures and Forks High School's yearbooks... all four years of his high school career.

"Ugh! I didn't need that mental image. I'm gonna need a lot of therapy before this school year is over," Alice muttered, reminding me that I wasn't the only one awake in this room.

"Start at the foot of the bed. I still have to get this thing on him." I walked back towards the bed and saw that his pout was more pronounced and his brow was furrowed, he looked like a child who was denied dessert for not eating his vegetables. I leaned over him once more, ready to get down to business. Unfortunately, Edward had other plans. One of his hands came up and grabbed my waist while his other tangled into my hair. He sighed in gratification.

"Bella, mmmm..." he moaned. His siblings quietly snickered at his words and my predicament.

My eyes were wide as I looked down at his face. I noticed that his eyes were moving rapidly under his lids - he was still in REM sleep. I quickly realized the nature of his dream when his hand slipped down and caressed my ass. His other hand cupped the nape of my neck and brought me closer to his lips. I didn't have it in me to fight it. Feeling his lips on my skin was addictive and my body was craving another hit of whatever his kisses did to me.

"Ughh... Fuuuckk," he muttered before kissing me. Those little zings of electricity when we touched did not compare to the inferno that was brewing between us at the moment. I stopped myself before I started kissing him back. He was asleep for heaven's sake! And I'm still not sure how I feel about him; my mind and my body were warring with each other. Pull away and pretend that it had never happened. Wake him up and climb on top. Decisions, decisions.

"Oh my God!" Alice whispered excitedly. I could tell that she was trying not to squeal; both of her hands were tightly clamped over her mouth.

"Damn, that is soooome dream," Emmett said, desperately trying to silence his laughter by choking on it.

_How about you choke on my fist instead?_

Edward loosened his grip on me and I gently pried his hands away, leaving them at his side and across his chest. I quickly pulled the mask over his eyes and backed away, not wanting a repeat... I think. I looked back at my partners in crime to see them rolling on the floor with silent laughter.

"Are you done now? We got a job to do," I snapped. I was mortified that my first kiss with Edward Cullen happened when he was asleep and that his brother and sister were there to witness it. I made sure to grab the bottle of lotion – _I don't even want to know_ – and place it in the way of his alarm clock.

We got right to work. Other than the occasional mumble of my name, groan, moan, or grunt coming from Edward, the room was silent. Emmett was so concentrated on not getting his finger caught in a trap that he didn't even comment, let alone notice, the major tent Edward was pitching under the sheet. Alice just tried to shut it all out and quietly hummed a song; I recognized it as those annoyingly funny jingles for freecreditreport(.)com.

We were almost done when one suddenly snapped in Alice's hand; she let out a yelp. Alice dropped the trap and quickly covered her mouth to prevent a scream from escaping. In a fit of pure adrenaline, my hand shot out to catch the damn thing and succeeded, surprisingly. I reset it and placed it on the floor. We couldn't afford to have the traps go off now.

Edward groaned loudly and kicked the covers off of his body. We all suppressed our urge to move, not wanting to incur the wrath of a grumpy, sleep-deprived Edward. Of course, he will be plenty angry at us come four-thirty. We stayed stock-still until he settled down.

_Oh, damn..._

We all saw it now. Edward was lying on his back, spread eagle, with a stiffy one could fly a flag on. He was _very_ well-endowed; Edward Jr. was threatening to burst through the damn slit in his boxers. If he ever needs something to fall back on, I'm sure that the porn industry would welcome him with open arms. Hell, I'd probably become his biggest fan. My fingers twitched, longing to touch him. I wanted to feel him leaking onto my fingers while I stroked his long, thick, solid co-

_Stupid hormones! _

We had to get out of there and fast before I did something that probably I _won't_ regret, like tie him to his bed and have my way with him until he screams my name in pleasure. But, I couldn't take my eyes off of him. I was riveted by the sight of his perfect body; his manhood was saluting me and begging me to touch it.

"Bella!" Alice hissed. I swiveled my head to see her standing at the door, covering her eyes. "Let's go! We got everything covered!"

Emmett was standing next to Alice, covering his eyes and shaking his head while his shoulders shook from the effort he exerted to stifle his snickering. They had finished setting up while I was ogling their little brother... again. If this was going to become a common occurrence, then I would have no use for blush, for my cheeks would be constantly stained in red.

"Right," I said as I got off my knees and into a standing position. I marched straight past Alice and out into the hallway with my head held high, intent on avoiding eye contact. I welcomed the cool air and let it wash over my face and body because it got a little stuffy in that room.

Emmett closed the door behind him and we followed Alice into the living room.

He let out a loud guffaw. "Fuck, Bella! It looked like you were ready to mount him!"

"Shut up," I moaned as I buried my face into my pillow. I wanted to crawl into bed and die.

"Aww, don't worry. It was obvious that he was enjoying one raunchy dream. I can't wait to show him the DVR," he stated.

"No! You can't show him that!" I exclaimed.

"And why not?"

"Just... because... you can't. My prank, my rules." Things would get a little awkward between us when he finds out that I had been eye fucking him while he was asleep like I was some sort of sexual deviant.

"Fine, but I'm keeping it for my own enjoyment."

"Eww," Alice and I said.

"Not like that, pervs, just for laughs!" He defended.

"Whatever. Just don't let anyone else see it. That goes for Rosalie, also!" I called out to his retreating form. "If you defy me, you're next on my list," I said in a sing-song voice.

"Psh, please! I am the king of pranks; there is no way you can get one over on me. I'm going to bed; wake me before Ed's alarm goes off."

King, huh? Let's see how he does against the queen. That assumption might be premature, but I had a good feeling that the title would stick.

"Thanks for the help, Emmett!"

"Welcome, Bells. This is the most fun I've had in a long time. 'Night!" He retreated to the bathroom to wash the eye black off of his face, neck and ears.

Now, Alice and I would play the waiting game. We walked into the kitchen and I watched from one side of her counter as she got things ready for an early morning snack. There was no way we were going to sleep; once I hit the hay, God help those who wake me before my seven hours of slumber are up.

It was also an opportunity to ask her some questions that had been gnawing at me.

"Alice, why are you helping me with this? I'm grateful and all, but you guys look like a tight unit. If this whole thing goes south, then it might cause a rift in your relationships."

"You weren't the only one hurt by their actions, Bella. I lost you, my best friend. I couldn't stand to be around them, Em included. Believe me when I say that it was challenge to sit across from my brothers during dinner and not say anything to Mom or Dad."

I understood why she had never told anyone about the misery I had endured; it was the same reason why_ I _had kept my mouth shut. Ratting them out would make my life much harder than it already was and constant adult supervision had not been an option that I was willing to entertain.

Also, it seemed like the student body was willing to protect Forks' own Cerberus; it stemmed from loyalty, reverence and fear of becoming like me. Nobody dared to defy Rosalie, not even her cousin or Edward. The school administration thought of her as the fucking golden girl that was to grow up and win a Nobel. It was like a damn "I Heart Hale" cult. That mild-tempered and sugary sweet façade that Rosalie had put on for authority figures contradicted her dictator-like personality in front of her peers and abhorrence for my existence.

She _was_ a master at bullshitting and it was another reason why I had refrained from forgiving Rosalie on the spot - our past made it hard for me to trust that her words were true. However, after I analyzed her body language, words, and the emotions that crossed her face, she no longer exuded arrogance, iciness and manipulation. Her feelings of guilt, even though I don't place blame on her, had cracked her hard-as-steel exterior. I have no doubt that what she had confessed to me was true, but I had spent years without trusting anyone except Dad. It was still a fairly new concept for me. Renee's family and I had encountered many road blocks to get to the place we were at now. Tanya, Kate and Angela didn't become my best friends overnight. Everyone in my life at that time had been nice and treated me with a gentleness they would show a newborn baby, but I couldn't help but wonder if they had any ulterior motives. I feared that the only reason why they wanted to know me was so that it would be easier to break me. Not that it would have taken much to achieve that.

"Your parents didn't suspect anything when I stopped hanging around?"

"Of course they did; Edward, you and I were attached at the hip. I told them that we had a falling out, that it was my fault that we weren't friends anymore. I didn't elaborate on that and they didn't question it. I had changed and they thought that I was just going through teenage rebellion and growing out of childhood friendships."

"So, why weren't you an outcast?"

"I wasn't ostracized by force; I became one on my own. I couldn't be in the same cafeteria as them, so I started hanging in the art room and took up drawing and painting. But, the schools were overrun by sheep and, somehow, art students became as "cool" as jocks and their cheerleader girlfriends. Rosalie was still hoping that we could be friends. Back then, she had practically everyone eating out of the palm of her hand and thought that a friendship with me would inevitable. She left me alone for the most part, but kept me in check when she threatened you. She was one crazy bitch.

"After the crash, we all just sort of banded together and grew close. As much as I love them, I still think that they need a taste of their own medicine. I know that they won't deteriorate into their former selves, but it just feels like their evil went unpunished and unchecked. Better late than never," she finished with a shrug.

"Thank you for being a good friend, Alice, and for understanding." In the time that I've lived in Seattle, it hadn't even crossed my mind to thank her for being here for me. I was so caught up in my own mental ramblings that I hadn't acknowledged her help. It was official: I was a self-centered bitch.

"It's not like it's a chore to be friends with you, Bella. And I know that you need time to process; you've only been here for about three weeks and two of those weeks were spent trying to forget."

Alice and I moved to the living room with our banana splits in hand. She decided to pop in a DVD for background noise while we talked. I couldn't have told anyone what the title of the movie was if my life depended on it; we were too engrossed in conversation. But, I do know that Jim Carrey was in it and had to do with communism.

I was amazed with the amount of contacts she had made in the fashion world in just a short year. She knew people who were responsible for makeup, costume design, and wardrobe for movies and television shows. She was familiar with a few fashion photographers and the models that they had captured with their cameras. Alice had amazing talent; she brought out a sketchbook to show me some of her designs. In fact, the red tank she wore earlier was based on page four of her book and wasn't supposed to be out until February.

After all the bullshit I had encountered in my last few years in Forks, Alice swore that she would never be backed into a corner again; she never wanted to feel as powerless as she did. So, the little sprite became aggressive towards her goals and never failed to achieve them; hence, the Cullen Condo in the Escala building and her job with Magnolia.

I was floored when she showed me designs for a lingerie line. She was planning to propose the idea to the owners of Magnolia when she had at least ten more sketches.

"So what's up with you and Edward?" She asked before shoving a spoonful of ice cream and banana into her mouth. Her stomach was like a bottomless pit and she never seemed to gain an ounce. In the past three weeks, I had seen her eat more than I ate in last two months. Hummingbird was a fitting nickname for her because she can eat more than her own weight in food. She must need it for all the exuberance that radiated off of her tiny body.

"I have no clue what you're talking about."

"Oh, please! I see the way you guys stare when the other isn't looking. What changed? And were those flowers I saw you holding last week?"

"I don't know and yes! He was just so sweet when we all hung out. While the four of you were paired off and being all mushy and kissy, Edward kept me company. We talked and laughed like we used to, he was the guy I remembered before he went all pod person on me. It kind of freaked me out because it flipped my whole perception of him; he's supposed to be the devil incarnate not an angel in disguise. Now I feel even more confused about what I should do."

"Aww, you'll figure it out, honey," Alice told me with a comforting smile.

"Man, I hope so. My brain feels like it's going to explode."

The movie had ended a while ago and was currently playing the root menu on a loop. We had been so absorbed in our conversation that we hadn't realized the time. We both jumped when we heard a loud thump followed by a snap.

"WHAT THE FUCK?!"

Alice and I looked at each other and started laughing hysterically as we heard more sounds come out of Edward's room.

Snap. Snap. Snap. One after the other.

"SHIT! WHAT THE HELL IS THIS?!"

Snap. Snap. Thump.

"Shhhiiiit..." we heard him groan, while the snapping mouse traps continued their loud, off-beat symphony.

We continued laughing as we heard Emmett storm out of his room to yell at him.

"Will you shut the hell up?! I'm trying to get some sleep here!"

Obviously, he had forgotten what transpired in that very room just three hours ago. A minute passed before we heard Emmett gasping for breath in between his chortles. Alice and I raced to Edward's room, eager to see the payoff for our hard work.

Edward was on the floor; the sleep mask was pushed up and tangled in his hair. Sticky traps were attached to his feet, legs, torso and arms. His eyes were bloodshot from being awakened so unexpectedly and the bags under his eyes made him look haggard. He sat on the floor with bewilderment written in big, bold letters across his face.

"Edward, what happened? Are you okay?" I asked in mock concern.

"Huh?" He replied, still looking confused.

"She asked if you were okay," Emmett reiterated slowly and loudly, like he was talking to a person who spent countless hours in front of speakers playing heavy metal on full blast.

"Huh?" He repeated.

I cracked a smile and bit my lip to keep from laughing in his face. Alice was behind me with her face buried in my back, giggling and snorting at her little brother's planned, unfortunate circumstance.

"Dude, I can't talk to you like this; you look ridiculous," Emmett said as his hand inched towards the trap stuck to his face.

"No, Emmett, don't!" I yelled. I watched in horror as he ripped the trap off of Edward's face, taking his scruff with it.

"FUUUUCCKK!" Edward yelled; his eyes wide and watery. It's a damn good thing that these walls were thick or else we would have been hauled in for disturbing the peace.

"Holy shit! Sorry!" Emmett exclaimed, trying to hand the black rectangle back to his brother. Alice just laughed harder and snorted louder. An angry red mark marred Edward's angular jaw line.

Being the softie that I was, I cringed at the physical pain that I had inadvertently caused him. I never intended for him to get hurt, but I didn't plan for Tweedledum's moronic compulsions. Did the Tweedle twin not remember how his fingers felt when he ripped them out of the glue? Idiot. I maneuvered through the maze of mouse traps and offered a hand to Edward. He slightly cowered and looked at it warily.

"I'm not gonna rip another one off," I promised, trying and failing to keep the humor out of my voice. He still made no motions to move so I tugged on his arm, reveling in the muscle tone beneath my fingers. "Oil will help, but it'll probably take a while."

Edward started to rise from his place, finally seeming like he was aware of his surroundings. He didn't seem that upset, considering his rude awakening. He eyed me the same way Emmett had, but instead of shying away, I shivered in delight. He gave me that swoon-worthy, crooked smile and stood there, confidently, in his thin boxers. He was getting a kick out of my unabashed perusal of his almost-naked form. Alice tugged on my arm and broke our staring contest. I couldn't figure out if I wanted to kiss or punch her for saving me from acting on hormonal impulses.

"Let's go to sleep. Eddie can take care of himself," she moaned through a yawn. Since yawns were contagious, I started up and couldn't stop. My body was finally aware of how little sleep I had gotten and threatened to drop without a moment's notice on Edward's bedroom floor.

_Maybe I could spend the rest of the morning in his bed with his warm body next to mine, spooning and... FORKing._

"Yeah, you look like hell, Bella. When was the last time you had some sleep?" I guess I could add selfless to his growing list of good qualities. He was standing there with crap that looked like leeches on steroids sticking to his body, only four hours of sleep under his belt after a hard day at practice, and he was worried about me. On the other hand it could be a ploy for me to drop my guard, so he could swoop in after I fall asleep and draw a stache on my face with a permanent marker - just like Ross did to Rachel in that Vegas episode of _Friends_. I decided that the latter was more probable, so I suggested that Alice and I sleep across the hall in my condo; I knew that he would be itching for some payback. He would have to be stupid to think that I did all of that on my own. Edward followed us out and walked to the kitchen in search of the bottle of vegetable oil, grumbling about a library and a vixen. I was tempted to forgo sleep in favor of _offering my services_, but my eyes were barely able to stay half-open.

It was a miracle that I could locate the keyhole in my door knob and walk to my bedroom from the foyer. The short trek seemed like I was fifty miles away from salvation and I had two broken legs.

Alice took the guest bedroom across from mine and knocked out before her body actually touched the mattress. I pulled Alice on top of the comforter and just folded the blanket over her; I didn't have the energy to get her under the covers. As soon as I got to my bed, I fell face first and crawled underneath the blanket to keep warm.

I wished that I didn't have to sleep; I could have been closer to Edward's semi-naked body and rubbing oil on him. Mmm, now that's the stuff of fantasies.

Why couldn't scheme #2 last a little longer? I'll have to plan the timetable better in the future.

* * *

**AN: Cerberus - three-headed dog that guarded the gates of Hades.  
Eye black - black grease that athletes use under their eyes to reduce glare from the sun, think baseball players and American football players.  
B&E - breaking and entering... if you were wondering.**

**Anyone see those pictures from the ****Alice in Wonderland**** movie? The Tweedle twins creep me out, much like those original Oompa Loompas. Ick.**

**On another note that is completely unrelated to this story and Twilight... ****The Hangover**** has a sequel in the works. Awesome.**

**I'll trade you an outtake for a review.  
Let's call it a reward or bonus, "bribe" has too many negative connotations. I wanted to write outtakes, but won't be posting a separate story for them.**

**Thanks for reading!**

**Happy holidays, stay safe!**

**-Luckky-**


	9. Chapter 9

**Happy new year! Thank you for all the reviews, I loved reading all of them. If you have reviewed chapter 8, but didn't get an outtake... Sorry. If you haven't noticed, FF was being difficult at that time (I was getting duplicate review alerts a week after I've read it). It was the holiday season and I was spread thin, so I was a little confused and couldn't keep up. Let me know and I'll send it over. Thanks to those of you who alerted and faved.**

**My cousin got a cardboard cutout of Edward Cullen for Christmas, I laughed.**

**..Don't own it..**

**Happy reading!**

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_...A man should keep his friendships in constant repair._  
- Samuel Johnson

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I was standing in my boxers in the middle of my walk-in closet, stressing out about what to wear to like a chick. I browsed through my wardrobe that Alice happily supplemented and organized. I came across the section dedicated to formal to semi-formal wear; wearing slacks and a button down seemed like I was trying too hard and it usually made me look like a prick with a cushy trust fund; so… no.

_Really, Alice, Armani? Way to flaunt the money, sister._

My fingers wandered down the line to my casual section. What the hell are these shorts doing in here? Hurley or not, I do not wear shorts, especially if they are plaid and practically the same color as my skin tone. Jeans: the go-to choice; with the right shirt it was dressy enough to wear out to a nice restaurant or casual enough to wear to dinner at a friend's house. Problem solved; now I was faced with the dilemma of picking out my shirt and shoes. Should I be doing my hair and makeup, too? Are my balls still attached?

I didn't want to raise any eyebrows over my nervousness and indecision over what I was going to wear, so getting Alice's opinion was not an option. She was too perceptive for her own good. I thought that she was going to call me out when she had caught me staring at Bella's lips for the tenth time while we had explored the Seattle Aquarium last week.

On my way home from another grueling practice, Ali called to inform me that we were having dinner at Bella's and didn't leave room for protesting. I was tempted to defy her orders and decline because the only thing that didn't hurt was my hair. We lost the opening game on home turf, so Coach was plenty pissed at the team. He ran us into the ground with bullshit warm-ups that were designed to kills us before we even had a chance to run drills. More than half the team fantasized about cramming that fucking whistle down his throat, then hanging him up by his lanyard. It was a miracle that the team hadn't dropped dead from exhaustion or suffered from frostbite. How can he expect us to perform at our best when we're burned out from practice? He still must not be getting any loving at home. Yeah, like I'm one to talk; I've had to resort to a lot of self-love during the past six months.

My crazy, stalker of a girlfriend from Port Angeles, now ex-girlfriend, somehow got it into her mind that we were going to get married as soon as we got out of high school. She was willing to give up her early acceptance to her dream school, NYU, to follow me to whatever college I chose. Other guys might find that kind of dedication flattering, but she was smothering the shit out of me.

Four months into our relationship, she envisioned the wedding and honeymoon. I thought that she was fucking with me, until she started planning the guest list and began visiting churches and places to hold the reception, stating that she wanted everything to be perfect. The last straw was when she had pulled a scene from _The Wedding Planner_ (I have Alice for a sister, enough said) and took my measurements in my sleep. Needless to say, I kicked her to the curb that same day. I should have listened to Alice when she told me that Jane was in desperate need to see a psychiatrist for her delusions. I had always thought that Ali's animosity towards her stemmed from Jane's distaste for Alice's fashion sense. I hate being wrong, or rather, I hate it when she's right.

I groaned as I bent down to survey the shoes that were lined up against the wall on the closet floor. I rethought my decision to leave the comfort of my own room; however, my need and excitement to see and talk to Bella silenced my protesting muscles. It's been almost two weeks since our near kiss at Pike Place Market and my lips were itching to finish the job; though, she'd probably bust my lip if I tried.

*

When Alice told us that we should do something to distract Bella and lift her mood, I made myself scarce. It wasn't that I didn't want to be seen in public with Bella, it was because I didn't want to make her feel uncomfortable by having me around; Jasper and Rose felt the same. Consequently, Bella's first day of being a tourist in her new home consisted of her and my siblings.

I caught a glimpse of her face when we ran into each other in the hallway; they were getting ready to head out. Her face had been so melancholy and her eyes were empty; it had reminded me of how she looked at the funeral. Her sparkling eyes that were full of life a week before had vanished; it had been replaced by a murky swamp-water brown. We were off to a horrible start; she's been in Seattle for a week and we already broke her.

I grew jealous of my siblings knowing that Bella's tinkling laughter that was heard through the front door when they came home, was the result of a good day with one half of my family. I may have been a little obsessive and waited near the front door, peeking through the peephole hoping to steal a glance of Bella... even if it was just the back of her head.

I know I don't deserve to be in her company with all that I had put her through, but, dammit, I wanted to be the one to put a smile on her face; just like I did before my ego tore us apart.

At the beginning of middle school, I had pushed back my need to go to Bella's rescue in order to keep my status at the top of the social ladder. I was a little shit, I know. I had gone from being a shy and awkward boy to having an air of faux confidence just weeks after meeting Jasper and Rose. I was making my own friends without the help of my brother or sister. I knew how Bella was being treated; I was an active participant to prove that I was as cool as the rest. But, I didn't want to help her out; I would have been on the receiving end of the degradation she had gone through. I was a jerk. I was guilty of treason and I curse myself everyday for not having the courage to stand up and defend her like I should have. As the years wore on, it became second nature for me to fill my role as an asshole. I didn't have a conscience, but from time to time, my inner eleven-year-old self would berate me for hurting Bella. I made it my mission to ignore him; he threatened to ruin all that I had built for myself, all that I had buried him for. If I had listened to him, maybe things would be different. Who knows?

I had already decided that I would make amends with Bella, even if it took the rest of my life to make it up to her. The first step to redemption was repairing a friendship or, in my case, rebuilding a destroyed one which is why I had given in to Alice's begging and pleading to join them in an excursion to the Pike Place Market.

Rosalie and Jasper were already on board and I was familiar with how the two couples operated. I usually don't mind when they practically start to dry hump each other in public because my attention would be focused on something or someone else, but Bella would be all alone and probably very embarrassed to be seen with them. Rescuing Bella from witnessing overt acts of sexually powered PDA was another reason for going; there was no sense in exposing her to something that should be practiced behind double bolted doors.

Bella was silent throughout the ride to our destination; she had that crease between her eyebrows that only made an appearance when she was in deep thought or trying to figure something out. She had that same look when we working out word problems for math in fifth grade; some things never change. This was the first time that we would go out in public together, so the air was thick with discomfort and filled with awkward silences. We were all terrified of saying the wrong things and causing an eruption of rage or a waterfall of tears. I reevaluated my decision to tag along; our friendship was obliterated the moment that I had chosen Jazz and Rose over her. It was in shambles with no hope of rebuilding, and I was stupid to think that she would give me the time of day. _I _wouldn't give me a second chance.

"Are you okay?" Alice directed the question towards Bella.

"Yeah, just thinking," she replied with a sigh and a slight smile that didn't reach her eyes. I watched from the corner of my eye as Rose's head turned to look out of the passenger window, her finger swiping at the moisture that collected in her dark blue eyes. I was curious to know what had been said between them; Bella was no longer as hostile and Rose seemed like she was slipping back into depression. Whatever had happened, it only served to make each other even more disheartened; both of them looked like they shared the weight of the world.

"We're meeting Jazz at Lowell's in an hour, he had to take care of a couple of things at work first. In the meantime, let's shop!" That was Alice's remedy for everything: retail therapy. Failed an exam? Buy new lingerie to seduce your professor into giving you an 'A'. The guy you're pining after doesn't notice you? Buy new clothes that demand his attention, preferably something that flaunts your assests. Lost your job? Blow your last paycheck on a high-priced power suit that will guarantee your success on your next interview, never mind that one doesn't possess the necessary skills that the job requires.

We spent the hour going from store to store, Em and I acting as pack mules to the girls. We were lucky that Bella was not into shopping and Rose was on a budget because Alice did some major damage to the Visa Black Card that she was wielding like a sword. I can't imagine why Mom and Dad didn't wrestle that card out of her grasp already; the money she had spent in the last six months could have supported a small country for a year.

When we came across The Confectional, Emmett was one big ass ball of energy; he was bouncing around like a kid in a candy store. We had to drag him out after the store clerks gave us the stink eye when Em pressed his face against the glass case, staring wide-eyed at the cheesecake truffles. He was starting to scare off the other customers because he was fogging up the glass with his breathing and drooling like Homer Simpson. I had never seen a grown man throw a tantrum before; I'm sure it was hilarious to an outsider, but it was just plain embarrassing for us. I couldn't believe that we were related or that I idolized him when we were younger.

We started walking towards a particular store and I was grateful that I hadn't turned tail and ran from our little fieldtrip because Bella provided me a little more insight. She has an unhealthy obsession for Godiva grade chocolate, which roughly translated into breaking the bank. Bella was entranced by the truffles that were seen through the window of Rose's Chocolate Treasures; without a word, she pulled the door open and walked inside.

I'm not a tightwad, but these people are fucking crazy to be willing to pay two dollars for something that was a little bigger than a fun size Reese's peanut butter cup. Bella ended up buying a twenty-four piece box; it totaled to forty-eight dollars plus tax. My eyes bugged out.

_For chocolate?!_

Of course, I shut the hell up when Bella rolled her eyes and stuffed my gaping mouth an Irish Cream. I was tempted to buy the whole store out of those fuckers; I would have if Bella hadn't dragged me out by my collar. I had been visiting Seattle for a long time before I moved here and that was the first time that I stepped foot into the store.

"How did you know about that place?" I asked, quickening my pace to catch up to her. I wasn't aware that she was so well-informed about Seattle.

"I made friends with the doorman; he let me try a couple of them. His wife is obsessed with their bonbons and truffles," she said, popping one into her mouth. I eyed the box of chocolate hungrily. My mouth was watering; it still tasted faintly of white chocolate and Irish cream. I caught Bella's eye, she smirked as she lifted another one that looked like an acorn.

"This one has a dark chocolate shell that is filled with hazelnut cream and bits of hazelnut."

She smiled and held the chocolate an inch from my lips. I opened my mouth in anticipation, thinking that she would hand feed me another one or at least throw it in there. The chocolate was taking a long ass time to find its way to my mouth, so I decided that I was going to lick the damn thing out of her fingers. She quickly pulled her hand away and shoved the piece into her mouth.

"Mmm, soooo good," she moaned, her eyes rolled to the back of her head as she closed her lids. I felt my jeans get tighter at the sight of her. I wasn't sure what was hotter; the way that she sucked the melted chocolate off of her thumb and index finger, the way that her tongue darted out to lick her lips for any remnants of the delectable chocolate, or the sounds she made when she bit into it. I knew one thing, though, I was going to buy her more chocolate if that was the way she ate them. I hid behind one of twenty shopping bags that were currently digging into my arms to hide the problem that would make Bella blush, and then grabbed her hand to pull her back into the direction that we came from.

"Where are we going?!" She sounded panicked, probably worried about being alone with me. I tried to ignore the way her small, warm hand fit perfectly into mine and the hum of electricity that surged between us. I squashed the desire to feel her body pressed against mine and kiss her with everything that I had; it wouldn't be conducive to a budding friendship if I pulled Bella against me to find out if I could taste the sweetness on her tongue.

"We're getting more chocolate," I answered, determined to buy out the store. I probably looked like I was a man on a mission. I was rewarded with a giggle. My face brightened at the realization that I made her laugh.

"That good, huh?"

"You have no idea," I replied, thinking on a totally different track.

I was feeling generous, so I bought eight twenty-four piece boxes; four of those boxes were for Bella to eat in my presence. Since I was already spending over four hundred dollars, the saleswoman tried to sucker me into buying pure cocoa powder; I caved when I saw Bella's face light up like a Christmas tree. I bought her three tins when she mentioned that it would be the perfect addition to red velvet cupcakes and chocolate lava muffins. She protested my paying for her, but relented when it was apparent that there was no amount of arguing that would change my mind. Plus, this was for a completely secret and selfish reason that I will probably regret later when I'm lying in bed with blue balls.

My phone rang; I was embarrassed with the song that Alice had programmed into it for her ringtone… behind my back… again. All the customers in the store turned to look at us when my phone started blaring "I'm Coming Out." Short stuff will never cease to humiliate me. Bella raised her eyebrows in question and a laugh threatened to spill from her lips.

"Alice chose her own ringtone," I mumbled.

"Right," she said with a nod, like she hadn't believed me.

"Alice," I warned.

"Yeeeees? I thought that you would be pleased that I chose that song instead of "Wannabe" like I threatened. Personally, I think that Diana Ross is _much_ better than the Spice Girls. Anyway, we're at Lowell's now, where are you guys? We leave you alone for a minute and you manage to lose yourselves. Do I have to attach those leash backpacks to you like a toddler? Okay, don't speak to strangers on the way here and hold hands when you're crossing the street. If you get lost, your address is in your wallet," she teased.

"We'll be right there; we stopped off to get some presents for you guys. But, since you're being all bitchy, you won't get yours."

"Okay, I'm sorry! What did you get me? Never mind. See you soon! Bye!" She replied in one breath.

Lunch had passed without incidence. It was kind of hard to be nervous while we were watching in awe as Emmett shoveled food into his mouth then scarf down Rosalie's leftovers; it was comically sickening to watch. One couldn't tear their eyes away from the massacre that Em had left behind in his wake. For dessert, he ate nearly two boxes of the chocolate that I had purchased. After eating most of Rosalie's box along with all of his, he offered her a Gianduja as an afterthought. Kind of like, "Oh, did you want some of this? Here you go." Alice beat her to it when she snatched the chocolate away from his fingers and popped it into her mouth. She smiled in victory. Rosalie crossed her arms and pouted like a child until I told her that I had two more boxes for them.

_And Alice implied that we were children._

After lunch, I had passed on the responsibility as cargo holder to Jasper. We strolled around the market, window shopping and making our way to the LaSalle Building. Bella and I brought up the rear as we watched the couples in front of us grope each other and stick their tongues down the others' throat when they thought that nobody was looking. I could tell from the look on Bella's face that she was just as uncomfortable and disgusted as I was. Ali and Jazz were the first to break off to check out the Art Stall Gallery, and then Rose followed Em to a store that sold sports merchandise.

I panicked when I became aware of the empty space beside me; Bella was nowhere in sight. I hadn't been paying attention and I don't have a clue as to how long she hadn't been by my side. Of course the feeling was completely irrational, she had her cell phone on her and all I had to do was call. But, I couldn't help the scenarios that played out in my head. What if she was abducted? No that's stupid; someone would have heard a commotion. But, what if he a weapon on her and threatened her life if she made a noise? They could be driving out of Seattle at this moment! I looked in all directions, popping my head into different stores and stalls; my panic was starting to make me sweat and my heart pound furiously. I needed to calm down; there was no reason for me to think that she had been kidnapped to be a sex slave in some obscure and deserted area of the world.

The next thought stopped me in my tracks. What if she had enough of us and took a cab home, so that she could pack up her clothes and leave Seattle forever?! She can't leave yet, I haven't started my groveling! I haven't even made a formal apology; she had never given me the chance.

Relief washed through me when I spotted Bella at the flower shop. She had her fingertip on the petal of a white tulip, tilting it upwards so that she could smell the floral aroma it was emitting. Her face looked so content, she found pleasure in life's little miracles and she looked like an angel doing so. Her white pea coat looked as though it was an angel's gown while the overhead spotlights shone on the hair that was piled on top of her head, giving it a halo effect. She had no idea how beautiful she was.

She had never been the poster child for self-esteem, even before we trampled on what little there was of it, but I made it my responsibility to change that. After I had gotten to know her a little better, I had realized that her taking the initiative to introduce herself to me was a huge accomplishment for her. She didn't have many friends because she thought that they would leave her in the end, so she never bothered. I hate to admit that we proved her theory right in two years times.

It was clear that she was not the same girl that had left Forks. She may put up a good front, but in the moments when she thought that nobody was looking, I saw that she was still that vulnerable and insecure little girl.

Bella jumped at the sound of my voice. "May I have a bouquet of the white tulips, please?" I asked the woman at the counter as she blatantly checked me out. Rude. For all she knew, Bella could have been my girlfriend.

"No, Edward, you don't have to. You already bought me candy."

Ann, her name tag read, slowly picked a dozen stems from the bunch and tied them together with a red mesh ribbon and finished with a lopsided bow.

"I know I did. Just let me do this for you." She nodded her head and conceded at my pleading tone, knowing that this was a fight that she would never win. I immediately paid the thirty dollars and presented the bouquet to Bella with a flourish. She hesitantly took it from my hand, and then buried her nose into the flowers; the contentedness was back on her face as a smile graced her lips.

"Can you believe that I've never received flowers from a boy before? Well from someone who wasn't my dad. He used to give them to me on my birthdays - pink peonies," she said with a sad smile.

Now, I understood why she had left those flowers at Charlie's grave and not just a single white rose. I had always thought that the rose-like flower looked too cheerful when it was compared to the sadness that had plagued her face.

"I haven't received flowers for years. My ex-boyfriends never saw the use for it when 'it's just gonna die later,'" she scoffed. "Thank you," she said quietly as she looked up at me. Her eyes glistened with unshed tears; she tried to blink them back. I raised my hand to wipe away the stray tear and ran my thumb across her cheek, hoping that she wouldn't break it in response to my forwardness.

"It's no problem; I wanted to." Bella's gaze was intense and we found ourselves leaning towards each other. My hand never left her cheek and she held the tulips with both hands.

We were interrupted by someone rudely clearing their throat. "Excuse me, but you're kinda blocking my entrance. It would be great if other customers could get through," Ann, the flower girl, sneered. "Ugh, and take the PDA elsewhere," she said as she rolled her eyes and turned around, flicking her hair over her shoulder in the process. Bella blushed and instantly pulled away. I came really close to calling her manager and snitching on her for her shitty behavior towards customers. We walked out of the flower shop as I looked back to glare at the girl behind the counter; she gave me a smug smile knowing that she had officially ruined the moment.

"Aren't the flowers and candy supposed to come before the date?" She joked. Her face turned red. "Not that I think… this isn't… I didn't mean for it… to sound like I… considered this a… date," she stammered.

I grinned and nodded at her. "I'll have to remember that for next time. Maybe then, I can actually kiss the girl." I teased and smiled wider when I saw that her blush turned a deeper shade of red.

*

That had been a highly successful day; Bella was easygoing and laughed like I hadn't heard her laugh in years. She didn't shoot me any dirty looks, hadn't excluded herself from conversation, and even made a few jokes.

The days following, when I wasn't burdened with practice, were equally carefree and my attraction to her was building. Bella was kind, considerate, smart, witty, beautiful – an all-around good person. She had been the starlet in all my daydreams, the memory of her consumed my every thought; I have the bruises from practice to prove it. However, the memory of fun times with Bella always held a twinge of guilt and sadness. It would start out with how much I wanted to be close to her, physically and emotionally. Then, it would lead to why we weren't even friends and how we had just barely become acquaintances. Finally, I would come to the conclusion that Bella was too good for me in every way. She was an angel that somehow found her way to earth and I was the demon that was spawned from three of the seven cardinal sins: greed, pride and envy.

I pulled out a Huskies shirt with my last name on the back; nah, too casual. I'd look like I was heading to the gym and it seemed like it shrunk a couple of sizes. I could always give it to Bella and hope she doesn't throw it in her fireplace; it wouldn't sit right with me if my sister or Rose wore _my_ football shirt. Now there's a thought: Bella in nothing else but my shirt, waiting for me on my bed. My cock readily agreed with my mental image. My right hand drifted south and I rubbed my dick through my boxers as I recalled those sounds she made while eating chocolate. My head dropped back as visions of a naked Bella on her back with her legs wrapped around me, panting and moaning, played out in my head. I moved towards my bed, my thumbs already at the waistband of my black boxers; ready to be free of my cotton confines.

"Edward, just wear that blue shirt I bought for you last week with jeans and chucks! Bella will love it, I promise! Now hurry up, we gotta go!" Alice yelled as she banged on my door. "Jeez, that boy takes longer than me," I heard her gripe.

Shit. I don't think anything can kill this raging hard on. Except…

_Emmett wearing a Playboy Bunny outfit for Halloween_.

I shuddered in remembrance. Nothing kills the mood more than the image of Em wearing fishnets. I still wonder where the hell he got the costume from; he refused to tell Alice and me.

Was it really necessary for us to head over at the same time? I wanted to run to the store and grab some flowers for Bella. It's appropriate to bring something for the hostess, other than our appetites. Right? But, I guess when I really think about it, the rest of the party wouldn't have to wait to eat if one person ran late. Knowing that Emmett was one of those guests, the food would probably be halfway gone by the time I got back.

I met the foursome out in the hallway. "Took you long enough pretty boy, trying to impress a certain someone tonight?" Jasper smirked.

"No, I was stretching; my muscles hurt," I mumbled. Alice and Rosalie snorted while Jasper gave me a look that said "Quit bullshitting yourself."

"You should have soaked in hot water and added that bath stuff that Alice keeps in her bathroom. I love that stuff, it smells like peach and makes my skin soft," Emmett said nonchalantly. Alice gasped.

"I knew it! You owe me a new bottle!"

"Whatever, how much is it like five bucks?"

"Try eighty numb nuts."

"You paid eighty dollars for a bottle of bath oil?! It's barely bigger than a can of soda! That's ridiculous! Is the main ingredient gold or something? Fine I'll buy it tomorrow," he added when Alice just glared at him. She smiled and rang the doorbell.

I honestly don't know why she's mad about it; her running out of supplies just means that she has a legitimate excuse to shop. And it's not like we can't afford it.

Moments later, the brown-haired beauty made an appearance. Her long hair was pulled into a messy ponytail at the nape of her neck and her bangs were swept to the side. I let my eyes wander her body. She looked comfortable and laid back in her black jeans and white ribbed tank top, her necklace was in its usual place around her neck… her locket resting just above her cleavage. Jasper nudged me in the ribs and my eyes snapped up to Bella's face. She asked Emmett about his lack of shoes; confused, I looked down to see that he was only wearing a pair of socks. I let out a laugh; this guy was quite the character. I couldn't tell if he was being serious or if he just wanted to make her laugh.

Bella turned her head towards me and zeroed in on my biceps, then over to my chest and abs. Her eyes trailed further south and regarded my crotch a few seconds longer than a quick glance. She looked at my shoes, a smile tugged at the corners of her lips. I had to hand it to Alice, she was right; Bella seemed to love what I was wearing.

"Hey, Bella. Thanks for inviting us over again," I said. Her mouth opened as if she was going to say something, but nothing came out. She met my eyes and I could see that her eyes were a darker brown than normal. It's good to know that I have the same effect on her as she does on me. Alice cleared her throat, amused.

She ushered us in, Bella in the lead with me right behind her, my eyes were glued to her ass.

Dinner was fun; I don't think that I've laughed that hard in a really long time. I knew that Jazz didn't like spiders, but I didn't think he'd be reduced to a screaming ten-year-old girl. October was around the corner and filling J's room with fake spiders for the annual prank war between us, seemed like a brilliant idea. He better get used to the eight-legged creatures because the next month will be full of them.

Fatigue started to catch up with me around midnight. My back was sore and my muscles were stiff. Unable to keep my eyes open, I excused myself right after Jazz and Rose left. I said my goodbyes and kissed Bella on the forehead; she smelled like cherry blossoms and raspberries. I got hard when my mind wandered and thought about what she tastes like. I pulled back and walked towards the door before I poked her with something that wanted to come out and play. I glanced back before closing the door and saw that she was still standing where I had left her with a dazed look on her face.

Rushing into my room was a bad idea, it seemed like the energy that had built up since kissing her forehead was spent on the run from the hallway to my room. Resigned I stripped down to my boxers, leaving my clothes in the hamper in my bathroom and started on my nightly ritual.

Knowing that she hadn't kicked me in the balls when I kissed her caused my heart to swell with hope. Our friendship may be ground to dust, but with a little water, or finesse, we could mold it into something else entirely different.

I toppled face first into bed, hoping to have dreams of hearing Bella moan in ecstacy underneath a cherry blossom tree after feeding her chocolate covered raspberries.

* * *

**AN: Sorry I had to cut it off there. I know I promised someone a lemon... but, the chapter would have been too long if I went on with it. And I won't be able to keep my promise for regular Monday updates; my social calendar is getting packed, which is bizarre for me. Very, very sorry if it sounds redundant, I tend to forget what I wrote in previous chapters. I try to go back and read them, but some stuff just slips past me.**

**A couple things: Gianduja - white chocolate shell filled with layered milk and dark chocolate ganash.  
The Confectional: they specialize in cheesecake... and they ship with FedEx straight from Seattle =D**

**I finally gave in and signed up for twitter. Follow me at unLuckky13. The link is on my profile if you're interested. Chapter progress and announcements. Outtake teasers. Life in general.**

**Review please!**

**Thanks for reading!**

**-Luckky-**


	10. Chapter 10

**Hello, welcome back! Thanks for the reviews, faves and alerts... it makes me smile when I hear my BB blow up with email alerts =D You girls (guys?) are the awesomest!**

**Please keep in mind that this is rated M for language and...stuff. It should be MA or NC-17, but we don't have that option. So, boo that sucks. There is a citrus-scented fog in the forecast, so if you're not old enough to go behind the "18 and over curtains" at your local video store then please skip over it. I wouldn't feel right corrupting the world's youth. The same goes for anyone who is uncomfortable reading that stuff. You may scroll down until you see (~+~) and read on from there. Now that you've been sufficiently warned... don't go ratting me out to the FF powers that be =) Thanks!**

**This is my first lemon, so if you don't like it then go easy on me; I don't write smut because I'm better at making people laugh or cry.**

**..Don't own it..**

**Happy reading!**

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_To be trusted is a greater compliment than being loved._  
- George MacDonald

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I had always thought that college would be a cake walk for me; contrary to popular belief, all jocks are not idiots. However, between coaches on power trips and professors who plainly show disdain on their faces for today's youth, I was struggling to keep up.

A last minute prompt for a research paper had been emailed to my inbox on Saturday evening and, thus landing me in the middle of the library on Sunday, my day of rest and relaxation. The high and mighty Professor Judith Ballard had no life and assumed that we didn't have one either. Professor Ballard… what can I say? Well, there was no nice way to put this, but she was a ham with a bitter outlook on life. I guess she was an alright teacher when she wasn't stalling her lecture by hacking up a lung every five minutes or speaking to her students like we were dumb shits. I wouldn't have been so bitchy if she had given the class ample time to complete it; it was to be due first thing on tomorrow morning.

Psychology wasn't exactly my strong point, so scanning through psych journals and writing about an article that made no fucking sense to me would have me thinking until dawn. Asking Jasper for help wasn't an option; he was spending special alone time with Alice. I shuddered to think of what that meant for them.

The library was quiet with only three people on duty: the librarian at the reference desk and two library aides up at circulation. I dragged my feet towards the back of the library where a stairwell led to the basement that housed periodicals and reference material. The only indication of another person in this room was the blue cart full of books and the rythmic thumps associated with shelving.

I immediately picked up the most recent copy of _American Psychologist_ and found a seat at a secluded table, intending to find the easiest article to write about. I practically threw my folder across the table, knowing that I would have to write all that shit out as my laptop was out of commission from an accidentally downloaded virus compliments of Emmett. Grumbling, I rose from my place in search of a book with psychology terms; I had forgotten my textbook at home in a rush to get shit done on time. I came up empty when I reached the area where they kept dictionaries; I even climbed up on the fucking ladder to scan the spines of each book on the higher shelves to make sure I hadn't overlooked anything.

"Excuse me; can you help me find a book?" I asked as I rounded the corner and into the aisle where the noise was coming from. My steps faltered and my heart stuttered when I stumbled upon a gorgeous brown-haired vixen that looked like she stepped directly out of one of my fantasies.

"Hey, Edward, which book did you need?" She asked, not bothering to turn around. The position of her arms above her head, shoving a book in between two others, caused her sweater to creep up her smooth skin and show off a sliver of skin on. The red and dark gray tartan micro-mini skirt that barely covered her ass made my cock jump. Her sheer thigh highs and high-heeled oxford pumps completed my vision of what a preppy school girl _should_ look like.

"Bella? When did you start working here?"

"Last week," she replied, turning to me with a smile. _Oh, fuck me_. I had been so consumed with her outfit that I hadn't even taken notice of the pencil that was holding her bun in place on top of her head and the glasses that was perched on the bridge of her nose. She cleared her throat and asked, "Book, Edward?"

"Right, uh, something up to date with psychology terms." She nodded as her eyes dropped from mine, a sly smirk played on her lips. I shifted uncomfortably under her scrutiny; I wasn't used to her blatantly checking me out. I'm sure that my basketball shorts did nothing to hide my semi.

"I'll see what I can find. Sometimes they split up the reference material and group them by topic. Come with me," she purred. _Gladly_. I followed behind her as I watched her hips sway and skirt bounce with every step. I felt my erection double in size at the thought of what she was or wasn't wearing underneath that tiny scrap of material that passed off as her skirt.

"Hmm, the psych section should be around here somewhere." Bella bent over to read the titles on the spines, her skirt riding up underneath her cheeks in the process; she was centimeters away from flashing me. I stepped back a little and tilted my head to admire what was on display. _Damn._

"Things would go a lot faster if you actually helped me look for the book that _you_ wanted," she said, getting into a kneeling position.

"Sorry," I replied, pushing images of what Bella could do on her knees out of my mind. I quickly scanned the shelves only to have my eyes drawn to Bella toying with her locket. From this vantage point I could see directly down her tight top. She leaned her head back as she brought attention to her neck and chest by trailing a finger on her clavicle.

"Do you see anything you like?" She asked, licking her lips. _Hell, yes._ Her hair fell in soft waves down her back after she removed the pencil from her bun.

"Uh, not yet." She pursed her lips and nodded again while looking up at me with mischief in her eyes.

"The psych section cuts off and continues on the top shelf; let me see if I can find something for you there." She climbed the ladder that was leaning up against the bookcase until her creamy thighs were level with my face. I had half a mind to lean in and lick her.

"Enjoying the view, Cullen?" I looked up at the way her left knee rested on the rung of the ladder, her head twisted back to look down at me and her eyes were a darker brown than what I had remembered from two minutes ago. A sexy smirk crept on her face as her eyes found the prominent bulge in my mesh shorts. She crooked her finger at me, motioning for me to come closer as she removed her glasses and threw them to the side. She was like a snake charmer and I was powerless to stop myself from obeying her command.

My hands moved of their own volition to run up and down her exposed thighs, each pass getting higher until I finally found out what she had been hiding under her tartan skirt. I traced the edges of the thin piece of fabric until my hand found its way in between her legs.

"Mmm, don't stop," she moaned. I slowly rubbed harder, loving the wetness that was soaking through the crotch of her thong. Bella moaned as she grinded herself on my hand, silently begging for more friction. I quickly slipped my finger past the flimsy barrier and caressed her wet slit.

"Edward…" she whined. I delved a little deeper and explored her hot, wet folds; relishing in the feel of her silky wetness.

"Move down a couple steps and turn around," I commanded, my voice was rough with lust. I had to restrain myself from pounding into her against the ladder.

"Good girl," I purred as Bella did as she was told. I ran my hands from her thighs to her hips underneath her skirt, stopping at her panties. Hooking my fingers in the elastic, I slowly tugged it down her legs and threw them aside as soon as she stepped out of it. The lacy undergarment snagged on a spiral bound book and it only fueled my lust; we were in a public place where anyone can walk in on us.

"Edward, please…" she whimpered as my thumb circled her clit and two fingers teased her entrance. I gave in to her pleading and slowly started to pump my fingers in and out of her. I marveled at how tight she was and anticipated how it would feel to have my cock sliding in and out. Our lips crashed and our tongues fought for dominance. I broke the kiss to suck on a pulse point on her neck.

I withdrew my fingers and earned a complaint from Bella before sinking to my knees to worship the goddess before me. Her chest was heaving, eyes dark with lust, and the smell of her arousal had my cock begging for attention.

"I want to taste you," I growled and hitched her right leg over my shoulder. Bella cried out and bucked her hips when I took one long, slow lick. Her skin smelled like cherry blossoms, but she tasted like raspberries; I needed more. She grabbed her skirt and hiked it high above her waist, leaving her bare and glistening; her other hand grasping the wooden rung above her. I watched as her face twisted in pleasure.

Giving in to my more primal desires, I acted on instinct and lavished her with my tongue based on the sounds she was making. She was absolutely dripping with want and grinding against my face. Bella tugged on my hair when I thrust my tongue deep inside of her while my finger drew tight little circles around her little bundle of nerves. Guttural groans escaped her throat as her legs quivered and thighs tensed. I felt her walls flutter around my slick muscle. She gripped my hair so hard that I thought that she was going to rip it out.

"Come for me, Bella," I said before diving back in. As if on command, she came hard with a stifled cry. I lapped up all that she had to offer as she fell limp against the ladder; her hand loosening the death grip on my hair.

Making sure that Bella didn't fall, I carefully rose from my place and kissed her soundly on the lips. "We're not done yet," I whispered into her ear. She shivered in response and wrapped her legs around my torso when I moved to carry her over to the nearest table.

As soon as she was seated, she ripped off her sweater and tossed it to the side. I teased her erect nipples with my mouth through her sheer black bra, unhooking the clasp in the process.

"These have to go," I demanded, making quick work of her skirt and my shirt. I sucked her right nipple into my mouth and tweaked the other with my fingers. Bella's hand trailed down my stomach and snaked its way into my boxers. Her small hand pumped my cock twice before I growled and rid myself of my basketball shorts and boxers.

"Fuck me," she commanded, a fire in her eyes. Who was I to deny the lady of what she wants?

I lined myself up at her entrance, teasing her with the tip of my dick before I thrusted into her with one smooth movement. We both moaned in gratification.

_Fuck, so tight._

I held still while my muscles – one in particular - were screaming for me to move. I ignored them, lest I blow my load before we even got started. That would be an embarrassment of epic proportions.

We moved slowly, sensuously as we panted and moaned into each other's mouths; her hips meeting mine, thrust for thrust. Her stocking clad legs wrapped around my waist, sending me even deeper, while her sharp heels dug into my ass. I could feel the pressure building inside of me, begging to be released. I increased my speed and furiously pounded into her wet heat. The only sounds in the basement were those of moaning, panting, whimpering, whispered words and skin slapping against skin.

"My turn, get on your back," she said forcefully, placing a hand on my chest and pushing me off of her. I pulled out of her and quickly climbed up on the table; my need for release took a back seat to please her in any way. She straddled me, lowering herself to sheath my dick with her glistening sex. She began to move, rocking her hips as she adjusted to the new angle.

"Ughh, feels... so good," she groaned out, her head rolling back to expose her graceful neck.

"Oh, fuck, ride my cock, baby," I begged. She moaned louder and started to bounce. My thumb automatically found her clit while my other hand kneaded the soft flesh of her full breasts. I started to feel her walls clench around me, her rhythm was irregular. I took over and repeatedly drove my cock into her as she bent over to kiss my lips. My hand immediately went into her hair and my other strayed to hold onto her waist.

"Ughh… Fuuuckk," I moaned. Her clenching pussy set off my own release; I bucked my hips into her one last time before I stilled and came deep inside of her. My hand traveled further to palm her ass as I kissed her deeply.

**(~+~)**

I was jolted from my peaceful slumber and a dream about me fucking Nurse Bella from behind over a gurney by the familiar screeching that my alarm clock violently spewed.

"Fuck…" I groaned. It felt like I only went to sleep a couple hours ago; my eyes were still heavy with sleep and refused to open.

My hand shot out, preparing to kill the offensive object by throwing it against the wall, hoping that it would shatter into a million unrecognizable pieces. Instead, when my hand traveled the familiar path to the clock, I came into contact with something hard and cold. Whatever it was, I heard it topple over and fall to the floor with a heavy thump followed by a loud and sharp snap.

My eyes abruptly snapped open at the foreign sound. Instead of staring up at my ceiling, I was met with pitch black darkness that reminded me of a movie theater with no lights on.

"WHAT THE FUCK!" I yelled. Oh shit, I'm blind! Those helmets did nothing to protect me. Oh fuck, it'll take a long ass time for me to learn Braille. I'll never see Bella's smiling face ever again. The thought of that made my heart plummet to my feet.

Panic and confusion seized my body. The incessant noises my blaring alarm clock emitted and the constant thunderous snapping only served to confuse me even more. I sprang to life and scrambled on my bed as my hand instinctively flew up to my eyes. I breathed a sigh of relief and pushed the fucking mask off of my face. After effectively silencing the alarm by yanking the plug out of the power strip, I swung my legs over the side of the bed to firmly plant my feet on the floor. I wanted to find the light switch, so that I could find out what the hell was making all that noise; it seemed like it came from everywhere in the room. I never got that far.

"SHIT WHAT THE HELL IS THIS?!" As soon as my feet hit the ground, they were caught in a sticky gel. Whatever that fuck it was, it sent me sprawling on my side as soon as I stood up from the bed.

"Shhhiiiit..." I moaned. Motherfu… What the hell?!

My door flew open with such force that it rattled the window when the knob hit the wall. I was temporarily blinded by a bright light that was shining from my ceiling and flinched at the volume of my brother's voice.

"Will you shut the hell up?! I'm trying to get some sleep here!" He yelled as he glared at me. Soon, his face broke out in a wide smile and barked out a laugh. What. The. Fuck. Is going on?

"You…" he gasped. "You…" he gasped again. He gave up on trying to form coherent sentences and doubled over in laughter. His face started to turn red as he struggled for air between his cackling. I would have gone over there and smacked the shit out of him if I wasn't sitting on the floor still wondering "what the fuck?" That seems to be the theme for tonight… this morning.

The sounds of swift, light footsteps were approaching my door. I slid my eyes from Emmett's purple-colored face to my brown-eyed goddess who was showing more skin that what I would have thought she was comfortable revealing. Well, I've seen her with less… only in my dreams, unfortunately.

"Huh?" Her lips were moving and she was looking directly at me, but, for the life of me, I couldn't figure out what she was saying. I was too busy staring at her and trying to figure out what Bella was doing over here dressed like that. _The library_ was _a dream, right?_

"Huh?" I repeated, when I heard Em's voice in my ear. All I heard was "blah, blah, blah." I was way too busy checking out Bella's legs and daydreaming about what she wore under those shorts, if she even had any panties on.

One second, I heard Bella trying to stop Emmett from doing something stupid; the next it felt like my face was on fire.

"FUUUUCCKK!" What the fuck was that? That shit hurt! My eyes started to water and I tried my best to keep from crying in Bella's company. Em handed me a black rectangle that had hairs stuck to it; I assumed it was what he ripped off my face.

Bella came closer to me and held out her hand. I shied away from her, hoping that she wouldn't rip another one off.

Standing up after feeling Bella's soft hands curl around my biceps, I surveyed my room. Again: what the fuck? Mousetraps and that black sticky shit littered my floor. I can only think of one person who would do this: Emmett. He _was_ the one that found me.

I looked over at Bella, taking in her clothing or lack thereof. Her dark green sleep shorts showed off her shapely legs and her top did nothing to hide her peaked nipples. I wanted to bury my face into her chest and spend countless hours acquainting her breasts with my tongue. She shivered, infinitesimally, under my gaze; if I hadn't been watching her so intently, I would have missed it. I noticed that her eyes roamed my body, like mine did to hers.

After Alice set off a chain reaction and Bella started yawning, I noticed that she had dark circles under her eyes, as if she hadn't slept in a long time. She was swaying and looked like she was about to keel over; I must have woken her with all my yelling.

"Yeah, you look like hell, Bella. When was the last time you had some sleep?" I asked. Although her voice was soft and full of humor, her appearance showed the same weariness that I saw the last time she had been in Forks. It brought up bad memories. She shrugged and suggested that they sleep over at Bella's. That was probably for the best since I was seconds away from humping her leg like a dog. I followed them out, watching Bella's behind bounce with every step and I was reminded of one of my dreams. I had to clench my fists and hold them tightly to my sides to keep from grabbing her ass.

"Fuck, I'll have a hard on every time I'm in a library, fucking vixen," I mumbled to myself.

Removing the traps proved to be a difficult task, it was right up there with rubber cement. Yes, I said traps; Emmett left the empty boxes in the trash. Not a smart move, brother. While oiling myself up I came up with a few ways that I could use to get back at him.

Three hours and a bottle of cooking oil later, I was standing over Emmett's snoring body.

I uncapped the Sharpie and drew a thick, swirly mustache along with a soul patch. After expertly connecting his eyebrows, I drew sideburns until they reached his jaw. Taking the hand that was furthest from his face, I placed it in a bowl of lukewarm water. I mentally checked off shaving cream when I dispensed it into the other hand that was closest to his face and used a feather from our old, unused feather duster to stick it up his nose. His nose twitched as his hand came up to scratch it, coating half of his face in shaving cream.

_Damn, I can't believe this shit is working._

Emmett still didn't wake up. I moved his pant leg to complete my revenge; I took a couple traps from my room and stuck them on his legs.

_Take that, fucker._

Satisfied with my work, I retreated to my bathroom for a shave and shower; having all this oil on me would have been sexy if it came with a massage and Bella as the masseuse, but it didn't, so now I just felt dirty. I decided to deal with the mousetraps that were scattered across my floor later, in favor of catching up on some much needed sleep; it was only eight in the morning for fuck's sake.

Having left my door open, I woke up to the smell of bacon and coffee. I don't know if I wanted to rejoice or panic. Rejoice because Alice was probably cooking breakfast and panic for that same reason. It couldn't be Emmett, he hasn't come in to yell at me yet. I checked my appearance in the mirror just in case he had decided to pull something else. Since, I haven't heard the smoke alarm go off and didn't smell anything close to being burned, I calmly changed into some house clothes and walked out.

As I neared the living room, I heard two voices come from the kitchen. I stopped outside of the doorway and eavesdropped.

"The only thing I could do is work the microwave and toaster… and I have _Esme_ for a mom. How did you learn how to cook like a gourmet? You're only eighteen," I heard Alice ask.

"Angela's mom owns a restaurant in Phoenix and she's the executive chef. It's this posh, upscale place that caters to the snobby rich, which is odd because Mrs. Webber is one of the more down to earth people I know. I used to escape there when things got to be too much for me at Renee's or anywhere else for that matter. Cooking became an outlet for me because I mainly focused on not burning the food. By the time I was sixteen, I could plan and cook a complicated dinner menu for twenty people," Bella replied.

"Was it bad for you in Phoenix?" Alice asked, sadly. Good question; inquiring minds want to know.

"At first, yeah it was. The first six months were just so bad. It hurt too much not to be numb, so I…" she trailed off and sighed. She was silent for a minute while my mind raced through all the different ways of how she could have dealt with her pain. It must have been bad if she was hesitating.

"I was depressed for a long time and it eventually turned into anger. I lashed out at Renee, Phil and Sophia. They had this perfect, happy little family and had everything they've ever wanted. I, on the other hand, had lost everything. I was essentially feeling sorry for myself. I hated to see the pity that was etched on all their faces; I didn't want their sympathy, I just wanted to be left alone."

I flinched. I can't imagine what she had gone through. She was virtually alone in an unfamiliar place with strangers as her caretaker. She had no friends back in Forks that could have helped her through the transition. As kids, I had promised her that I would always be there for her; to catch her when she fell and to always be there for her when she needed someone to talk to, apart from Alice. I am ashamed to admit, even to myself, that I had broken that promise more than a hundred time over and hurt her in so many ways. I caused her to fall more times than I could count and had caused lasting psychological damage.

"I hated Renee most of all," she continued. "I felt like she left Dad and me behind, so that she could find a better family in an ideal location. And that the money she had sent to me was just her way of easing her own guilt. I let her know it, too. I screamed at her at the top of my lungs on a daily basis. It was a long year and a half before I even spoke to any of them civilly. They took it all in stride and didn't fault me for it; I love them for that. It was just so easy for Renee to terminate her parental rights and pass me off to be a ward of the state, but she didn't. Even though she had essentially discarded me when I was younger, she made an effort to become the mother I _should_ have grown up with. Phil supported me and tried to be a father figure without asking to take Charlie's place; he had never insisted that I call him Dad. Sophia, the only child up until I came along, never gave up on trying to get me to open up to her. I had never seen anger or resentment in her eyes for intruding and disrupting her family, just understanding and sadness."

"What about school? Were the kids there as bad or worse than the ones back home?" Alice asked, her voice craking with emotion.

"Initially, school sucked ass. My therapist had to prescribe anti-anxiety meds; at Forks High I only had to deal with a student body of about three hundred people, my high school in Phoenix had as many students as there are residents in Forks. Fortunately, they didn't share the same mentality; you were only a loner if you tried really hard to make yourself one. It was like someone was always trying to connect with someone else. Tanya had saved my ass when I was cornered by a group of people who wanted to know my life story. They called themselves The Chameleons because they changed their entire style every few months based on a celebrity or era that they were hung up on. They thought that it was cool; it only made them look like posers.

"Tanya had introduced me to Kate and Angela. I admit to being skeptical and wary because three very pretty girls that looked like they defined the popular crowd wanted to be friends with me. They sat with me and listened to me; eventually, they became my best friends. Of course, I learned that there was no such thing as populars. Sure there were jocks and cheerleaders, but they were as well-known as the next clique."

"I'm glad that you had friends like that. I'm here for you, too, if you ever need anyone to talk to. Always," Alice said softly. I felt like a cad; I was snooping in on a conversation that was clearly supposed to be between the two. How was I supposed to gain her trust when I was listening in on her private conversations? Gaining knowledge and pointers to win her over by spying was not acceptable in my book.

"Something smells good," I said, deciding to make my presence known. I smiled at Bella, seeing as how she was the one holding the spatula and wearing the apron.

"The French toast is just about done. Grab a plate and help yourself; it is your food after all."

"We had food in the house?" I asked, thoroughly confused. Our fridge was never stocked with perishables because nobody was adept to cook it.

"Yes," she snickered. "Alice picked up some stuff when we went to the store yesterday. She asked me to come over to give her a lesson in the kitchen. Jeez, what do you guys eat when I'm not feeding you?" Bella laughed.

"Hot Pockets, pizza, take out, fruits when I remember to walk down to the produce area, sometimes we go to restaurants with actual linen napkins and servers, but mostly take out," Alice replied. I nodded emphatically as Bella snorted.

"EDWARD, YOU LITTLE SHIT!" Emmett roared. We all jumped at the outburst. He came storming into the kitchen clad in a white shirt and gray sweatpants that sported a wet spot in the crotch area. The shaving cream was hastily wiped off his face, leaving traces of the white cream behind. He looked comical with a unibrow where his crease should be. A mustache and soul patch enhanced his frown.

Alice choked on her orange juice and sprayed the counter with an orange mist when she tried to cough it up.

"What happened?" Bella asked between her laughter.

"This asshole," he said, pointing a finger at me, "put my hand in warm water and I wet the bed like a two-year-old! And he put shaving cream in my other hand!"

"Check your legs," I said, smiling widely.

"You bitch!" He yelled when he saw a couple of traps stuck to the hair on his legs. Good luck with that; I already used all the oil. Alice snorted into her juice and placed the glass on the counter for fear of choking on it again.

"So, what's up with your, um…" Alice asked as she gestured to her own face with her finger.

Emmett marched over to the cabinet that was stocked with pots and pans that had never seen the light of day, other than when Mom was over here. He took a pot from the stack and looked at his reflection in the shiny, sliver reflective finish.

"Asshole! You better watch your back, baby brother!" He exclaimed. He licked his finger and began rubbing at his unibrow trying to smear the ink of the permanent marker. It was ineffectual as he only succeeded in turning the surrounding skin an angry shade of red. We dissolved into fits of laughter.

"Hey, it serves you right; putting all that shit in my room, then waxing my face."

"It wasn't even my idea, it was Bella's. And I already apologized for – hey is that bacon?" He barreled towards the food, forgetting that he was even mad at me and inadvertently ratting out the mastermind.

"Oh, it was Bella's idea, was it?" I asked, turning back to her as I playfully narrowed my eyes and stalked towards her.

"Uh, no, I just… uh, umm… what was the question, again?" She asked, backing up until she hit the counter. I placed my hands on the counter and caged her in with my arms.

"Was it your idea?" I asked quietly into her ear, resisting the urge to sniff her hair or lick her neck. A shiver racked through her body and I felt my cock stirring at the proximity of our bodies.

"Of… of cour-course n-not."

"You're a horrible liar, Bella. I think it _was_ your idea and do you know what I'm going to do to you?" I asked playfully, careful not to trigger any unpleasant emotions.

"No…" she replied quietly, looking up at me through her lashes.

_Fuck, woman! Keep doing that and we're going to make one of my fantasies come true!_

She jerked to the side and let out a surprised laugh when my finger poked her side. She was just as ticklish as I remember. Alice let out an chuckle as Bella ducked under my arm and ran to the living room laughing. I ran after her, picked her up by her waist and plopped us down on the couch. I hovered over her as my hands assaulted her sides until she was gasping for air.

"You know what to say, Bella. Just say it once and I'll back off."

"No," she replied defiantly, a smile still stuck to her lips.

"It's only one _little_ sentence. Say it!"

"Make me!" She squealed, her words disintegrating into giggles. I increased my pace until she squirmed right off the couch.

"Okay, okay! Edward Cullen is the cutest boy alive and he has dreamy green eyes!" She yelled the sentence that we had established for a ceasefire when we were younger.

"See? Now was that so hard to say?" I teased, immediately stopping my attacks.

"Yeah," she sighed, "it really was." I scoffed and mocked hurt leaning in to poke her in the stomach.

"Hey, hey, hey, I already said it. Don't make me give you a Bella wedgie," she warned, slapping my hand away. I conceded and held up my hands in surrender, a gigantic grin that matched hers was still plastered on my face.

I had mentioned it once, I'll mention it again: she was beautiful. Her cheeks were flushed, eyes were alight, hair was tousled, and her chest was heaving. I smiled at her and held out a hand to help her up. She looked at it warily, an outburst of emotions flickering in her eyes. It occurred to me that the last time any of us held out a hand to help her up ended up with her hitting her head. She placed her hand in mine, but still kept most of her weight on the arm behind her. I tightened my grasp and pulled her up. She fell against me; it felt so good to have her body pressed up this way. Before I did something stupid, like throw her over my shoulder and take her to my bedroom, I pulled away and sat her firmly on the couch.

"Wait here, I'll get breakfast for you. Coffee?"

"Yes, please. Thank you," she beamed at me and my heart melted. It felt strangely domestic and I couldn't help but wonder what married life would be like with Bella.

_Nice logic, idiot! First, you have to gain enough of Bella's trust to be_ friends _with her._

I didn't want to jinx it, but I think that we were definitely on our way to friendship. I'd like to think that I've been bumped up from her D-list: _I would_ never _hang out with him_, to her C-list: _Since he's already here, I guess we can hang out._ She hasn't run away screaming, yet. Well, not counting the last five minutes.

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**Sorry if it went a little fast, but we need to move forward and get on with it. Plus, this is Bella's story, it's just fun to read Edward's side of things once in a while.**

**I wrote an outtake in response to reviewers for this chapter, but I'm on my way to Vegas for a weekend of wild nights and hangover mornings... again. That means that I will probably reply on Sunday night or Monday afternoon, so don't get peeved at me when I don't reply forthwith.**

**Cross your fingers for me and hope that I don't come back as a statistic that involves The Little White Chapel. I get to go to Serendiptiy. YAY! I've been craving their frozen hot chocolate.**

**On twitter... yeah I know, right? Follow me: unLuckky13.**

**Questions, comments, concerns? Let me know!**

**Thanks for reading!**


	11. Chapter 11

**Hey everyone! Thanks to those who had reviewed, it put a smile on my face =] Alerts and faves are awesome; keep them coming.**

**Updates have been slow... sorry. I've been preoccupied with life, how unfortunate. My fortune teller, Esmerelda, told me that I should start finishing my projects, so I promise to finish it and not give up on it even when I'm struck by laziness and writer's block. Esmerelda is awesome. Go to her if you're ever at Disneyland. She's right in the front of the Penny Arcade... She's in a box and only charges twenty-five cents! =D**

**This chapter is over 7,900 words... sorry, I just didn't know where to cut it off.**

**Microsoft Word is my beta, so if you got a problem with it... blame the programmers. All I did was rewrite it until the green and red squiggly lines disappeared =)**

**..Don't own it..**

**Happy reading!**

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That which does not kill us make us stronger.  
_- Friedrich Nietzsche_

* * *

_Dear Tanya, Kate and Ang,_

_Hey hotties! Sorry if it seemed like I dropped off the face of the planet, but things have been odd here in the city of seemingly eternal rain. I "reunited" with the Cullens, the blonde fembot and Whitlock; you know… the ones that I told you about. I actually live across the hall from the Cullens… only with my luck, right? Before you girls get all psycho and start sending death threats and mail bombs, it hasn't been that bad. The earth didn't open up and swallow me whole. The sky didn't turn orange and start raining fire. Armageddon didn't come like I thought it would. World War III didn't happen; there were no casualties… kinda…_

_We were off to a shaky start, but I've reconnected with Alice and Emmett (you girls haven't been replaced, I promise). Along the way, I managed to (accidentally on purpose) ruin Rosalie's $2,000+ purse, scared Jasper so much that I had given him a mild heart attack and was unintentionally responsible for Edward's face being waxed by industrial strength glue. The jury is still out on whether or not I should exact revenged on the other two, but I'm leaning towards a resolute NO. The odd thing was that they weren't even pissed off when they found out that I had been responsible for all of it. They didn't even think to retaliate against me. _

Well, that's not entirely true; Edward had tickled me until I conceded defeat. But, I would be keeping that bit of information to myself for now; they weren't his biggest fans. Tanya had threatened to cut off his balls and shove them down his throat if he ever got within fifty feet of me and Kate volunteered to tie him up. Angela, too sweet for her own good, wanted to sit him down and give him a stern lecture; I was amused with the determination written on her face. I had also decided to keep all new developments between Edward and me to myself until I could figure out where he stands in my life. Was he just my neighbor? Alice and Emmett's little brother? Friend? Something more? Sometimes I had to remind myself that he was an asshole to me because it became so easy to like him. Damn him and his feel good pheromones.

I didn't want to tell them about what Alice and Rosalie had revealed to me. This email would be the first correspondence between friends since we had started college; I couldn't unload my confusion and agitation on them. It would be inferring that I only communicate with them when I need help. Also, in my quest to become independent, I wanted to determine how to go about this situation on my own. No outside influences or advice unless it was desperately needed. They have more important things to worry about than to reassure me that my fears and insecurities were nothing to stress about albeit legitimate.

_School's been great; fast-paced, but fun. Math sucks gorilla balls in the heat of summer; not pleasant… although you guys probably knew that (Tanya, your vivid imagination is rubbing off on me). I bombed my first college exam. I got my first D… in my life. It stung like you have no idea. The bright side of that failure was that I got myself a tutor. A really hot tutor who just so happens to be the TA. Is that even ethical? Tanya, he's your type: sweet guy with a bad boy exterior. I don't know if I'll be able to learn anything if I'm just going to be worried about making an ass out of myself._

I had felt confident about the outcome of the test because I studied my ass off; I expected my score to be at least in the low eighties. The grades had been posted before class started and the exams were returned in order for us to learn from our mistakes. My mistake was not starting at a basic level math class. I received a score of sixty-nine point five, a very high D. I had been mildly irritated that DeSantos didn't give me the benefit of the doubt and allow something as menial as placing the decimal point in the wrong place to slide. Tyler corrects all papers, but she likes to double check to make sure he wasn't letting any students get a free ride… which negates most purposes of having a TA. She probably keeps him around as eye candy. She was a nice enough teacher, but I don't think that there was a compassionate bone in her body; she was polite but cold.

I guess class had let out a while ago because Tyler came to check up on me. The theater-seating style lecture hall was completely empty, save for the two of us. I had bitched and moaned about potentially losing my scholarship because of my complete lack of knowledge in math. In reality, the scholarship wasn't that significant; Renee and Phil could pay the tuition for UW, but the free ride was the only thing keeping me here and not running off to Berkeley. Tyler had persuaded me that it was not the end of the world and offered to tutor me every Tuesday and Thursday after class starting next week.

_So, what's new with you guys? How are your classes and teachers? New jobs? New guys? Tanya, do you have a legion of male admirers following you around campus yet? Better yet, did you have any professors proposition you for an easy A? Kate, do they even let you sleep? Do you have enough free time to spend with Garrett? Angela, you still have that can of Mace with you, right? Maybe you should apply for a gun permit or get a Taser. And don't break too many hearts in New York; Lord knows that you left at least two dozen of them back home._

_Can't wait to hear from you three :)_

_Love,  
Bella_

I sent the email and logged off of Hotmail. I decided to review my notes on philosophy before my mind wandered and focused elsewhere for the weekend.

The end of the school week was always a welcomed change. The fast-paced quarter system was killing me and it was an adjustment that my body and mind fought to get used to. As soon as I had emailed or handed in my completed assignments, the instructor would add on to the work load in order to prepare us for the upcoming midterm, which was only a mere three weeks away. _Dammit!_ I had to forfeit my weekends to get ahead of next week's reading and discussion questions; there was barely any time to sleep. I needed all the time I could scrounge up to study, but that would have to wait until Sunday night because in half an hour… I would be on my way to Forks.

I hadn't mentioned it in the email because I didn't want to misplace their focus and have them worry about me. They knew that I tended to run from any topic involving Forks and ignore it rather than welcome it with open arms. They'd probably question my sanity for choosing to walk back into the source of all my misery.

The anniversary of Dad's death was just around the corner. Although I had told Alice and company that I would be fine taking the trip alone, I had been secretly pleased that they insisted on tagging along. It was time for me to confront my torturous past with them and all the disastrous events that were related to the sleepy little town. It could be a recipe for disaster, a psychological category five hurricane that would cause catastrophic damage to my psyche. The kind one would push back to the dark recesses of their mind and convince themselves that it was only a nightmare, some cruel trick of the mind. Or I could finally find some peace. The taunting nightmares could stop, second guessing my decisions at every turn would become a distant memory and I could come to terms with Dad's death. Like I said, I had never dealt with it properly. I would only allow myself to think or speak about him on the week of October tenth. I spoke of memories and used a present tense as if he were still alive and just living far out of reach. I had been living in denial and I only hope that it softens the blow when faced with the reality of it.

My doorbell sounded their arrival and, suddenly, I felt nervous. Was I really ready for this? The accident and the mental abuse ended four years ago, but that didn't mean that I spent my time trying to get over it. I had been trying to forget that my life in Forks actually happened, which, in turn, got me all depressed because that meant denying that Charlie Swan had ever existed.

This strangely felt like the first time they had come to my door all those weeks ago; I wanted to hide and pretend that I wasn't home.

"Bella, come on, we gotta go if we wanna get there before lunch!" Alice yelled through the door. I made no comment. I stood in my foyer, the handle of my D&G rolling luggage and black leather purse in both hands while I stared at the knob like it was going to jump up and kick me in the face.

"Isabella Marie Swan! Get your butt out here! We talked about this, you _need_ to do this, remember?!" Yeah, she was right; I was the one who brought up the trip in the first place… _me and my big mouth._

Emmett had complained about putting more miles on and needing new tires for the Range Rover, so the guys loaded up Alice's Porsche with luggage while the girls figured out seating. Between Alice and Rosalie's bags, there was only room for three people in the Cayenne, instead of the customary five. My trunk was already full of mine and the boys' luggage along with the overflow from the Porsche. The fashionistas probably couldn't go through the day without changing their outfits at least twice, shoes included. They also felt the need to bring their arsenal of makeup and hair products. I don't understand why they couldn't just use whatever was sitting in the bathroom at their parents' house. But, that's just me.

Alice decided that she wanted to use the next three and a half hours calming my fears and distracting me. I offered to let Edward drive my car for a totally irrational reason: from one Audi lover to another, I trusted him enough not to wreck it. I didn't know my way around and was horrible with directions; knowing me, we'd probably end up in Canada, Idaho, or Oregon. Jasper was torn between wanting to stay with Alice and making me comfortable by giving me a little space; he rode shotgun in the white SUV when Alice made the decision for him. We were on the road in less than fifteen minutes.

The ride towards the ferry terminal wasn't so bad, we hit a little bit of mid-morning and constuction traffic on the way out, but nothing that would delay us for a long period of time. However, the ferry ride across the Puget Sound had me swaying on my feet. I begged Edward and Emmett to take the longer way home on Sunday afternoon. Once we got onto the open highway it was smooth sailing and my unsettled stomach requested that I never get on another boat for as long as I live.

Alice made me laugh when she recounted the first time she had met Edward's last girlfriend, Jane. She spoke swiftly and animatedly; her voice raised a few octaves and she talked with her hands.

The transfer student from Spokane had insulted her by telling Alice that her choice in clothing channeled her inner desperate barfly. She went on to give Alice advice, tips and tricks to look stylish while avoiding the image of a woman who sold her body to anyone who had the cash. Jane had also suggested that longer hair might suit Alice's small frame better because she supposedly looked like a pre-pubescent boy with a pixie haircut - it had grown out since then. In all the years that I had known Alice, she wore her hair in various short styles and rocked it with the confidence of a supermodel on the catwalk. Jane must obviously be blind because I wasn't the only one who happened to think that Alice's style was nothing short of spectacular. Edward concluded his little brush with lunacy by telling me why he had all the locks in his house changed; Alice and I laughed at his expense.

After a few more hilarious stories the rest of the ride passed in amiable silence while a diverse mix of music genres from my iPod filtered through the powerful Bose speakers.

Our first stop would be the diner; Emmett had worked up an appetite from stepping on the accelerator for three hours. This was good, it wasn't exactly neutral space as Dad and I used to be frequent patrons, but we were off to a good start. Or so I thought - I'm like a walking bad luck charm.

As soon as we entered the cabin-like diner, we heard the distinctive, aggravating cackle that belonged to only one person: Lauren Mallory. It doesn't matter how long I had been away; her laugh had always grated on my sensitive ear drums and my body was already trained to cringe when it was heard. She was sitting at the counter talking and gesturing wildly to an apron-wearing, bored-looking Jessica Stanley.

Lauren had moved to Forks when we were in second grade and then convinced my best friend, Jessica, that I wasn't good enough because I didn't have a mother of my own. I didn't see what the problem was; Mrs. Black and Mrs. Clearwater were excellent role models for me. Sarah Black was an elementary school teacher on the reservation and Sue Clearwater ran her own flower shop close to Forks. I couldn't spend every waking moment with them as they had their own families to take care of, but their presence was strong enough to let me know what having a mother figure in my life was like.

Lauren and Jessica hadn't been as bad as Rosalie, but their snide comments and contributions to the rumor mill had me hoping that I would never encounter them for the rest of my life. I was hoping to see Jackie, the nice waitress who had always added an extra scoop of vanilla bean ice cream to my warm cinnamon apple pie. Or Amos, the short order cook who made smiley faces on my banana pancakes with fresh fruit and whipped cream.

The diner was mostly empty except for a couple of employees, Lauren, and an elderly gentleman who was nursing his cup of coffee and engrossed in the local paper on the opposite side of the restaurant. We took a seat at a corner booth near the front door and decided on cheeseburgers and fries.

"Hi, what can I-"

"Stanley," Rosalie said, coldly. Jessica's eyes snapped up to meet Rosalie's face when her fake sugary voice was interrupted.

"Oh, hey guys. What can I get for you to drink? Any appetizers?" She asked as her face lit up, looking around the table. Her gaze stopped with me and she narrowed her eyes in scrutiny.

"Isabella Swan?" She questioned, her eyebrows rising in surprise.

"Yep," I answered, nodding.

"Oh my goodness, how are you?! I didn't know you'd be in Forks. Well, I didn't even know you'd be in the state. So where are you going to school now? I'm guessing somewhere in Seattle since you're with them," she gushed excitedly, gesturing to the group that I sat with. I couldn't believe the nerve of this girl. She had stopped talking to me ten years ago, but she didn't have a problem talking _about_ me. Now, she was acting like we were long lost friends who had their friendship amicably dissolved. It was understandable for her to think that we were okay, after all, I was sitting with my archenemies and we managed not to kill each other.

"I'd like a Coke and a cheeseburger special," I said as I watched her smile slip from her face.

"Make that six," Jasper added, the others nodded in agreement.

"Of course, I'll be right back with your drinks," she said looking down, embarrassed that we weren't as excited as she was. I relaxed as she walked away, but tensed up when I heard the click-clack of high heels making its way towards the table.

"Well, well, well, Bella Swan, the prodigal daughter, returns." Her pale blue eyes, similar to those of a Siberian Husky, still made my skin crawl and it was accentuated by the darkness that surrounded her.

_And I'm not talking about the heavy, black eyeliner at noon._

Instead of her natural corn silk blonde hair and fair complexion, she was now the proud owner of a rich chocolate hair color and a faux tan. It would have been decent if her hair wasn't fucked to begin with and tan was done properly. Her fried tresses clashed with the obvious smooth extensions and the streaks around her eyes were a telltale sign of a DIY spray tan in a bottle. She obviously hadn't figured out that there were self-tanning face lotions on the market. _Idiot._

Rosalie rolled her eyes. "Do you even know what prodigal means, skank?"

"Of course I do, bitch; it was on my "word-of-the-day" calendar last week. Hi, Edward," she purred before she licked her lips. Lauren flicked her hair behind her shoulders and put her surgically enhanced chest out on display. Her nipples looked eternally hard, just like Regina George's mother in _Mean Girls_.

_I sure hope she doesn't carry around a small dog._

Edward cringed and sunk lower into the cushioned booth, trying to disappear behind Alice and me. Jasper and Emmett snorted in amusement while Rosalie and Alice looked on with disgust. I stared at her and mentally shook my head at her lack of class.

"Okay, in what context did you mean it in, then?" Rosalie smirked, clearly trying to confuse her; for Lauren, "context" was a big and complicated word... even if it was only seven letters long. The "x" must throw her off.

"Umm, you know, just look at her, gawd. The prodigy acts like she's too good for Forks."_ Did she actually graduate on academic merit or did she just blow the principal for her diploma? She obviously doesn't know that there is a difference between prodigy and prodigal. Moron._

"Does Bella scream wasteful or recklessly extravagant?" Rosalie questioned. My Tiffany Tesoro watch that was currently hiding under my sleeve probably cost more than Lauren's outfit, accessories, car, and the gas in the car put together. My purse was Gucci, you had to study the subtle embellishments to notice it, but it was Gucci nonetheless. However, Renee bought them for me without my say so or knowledge, so technically I'm not defined as the kind of prodigal Rosalie was referring to. If I had a choice, my clothes would come from Target or somewhere equally affordable.

"I didn't say that she was," Lauren replied with an eye roll and a head shake. Rosalie and I both knew that there was more than one definition to the word and a few ways to twist its meaning, but we weren't going to bring it up just so Lauren could have more ammo. If she was intelligent like she had always claimed to be, she'd realize that it also meant black sheep and failure.

"Fuck, you're stupid," she mumbled. "Didn't you call her prodigal?"

"Well, did I stutter?" Lauren replied with an attitude like she was from South Central or something.

"Well, what the hell do you think you implied, you disease-ridden twat?!" Rosalie yelled, exasperated. She rubbed her temples, muttering about an oncoming migraine from dealing with a moron. Lauren shrugged it off like Rosalie hadn't insulted her.

"Lauren, I think that you should stop bothering my customers and go nag one of your asshole coworkers," Jessica spat venomously, setting down a tray of six glasses that were filled to the brim with soda. I guess that their friendship was a bust.

"Do I detect a hint of jealousy?" She teased. "Well, I'm sorry that I'm better than you, but you really have to find a way to get over it. I work on a salary and you live on minimum wage and tips; get over it. I'm obviously hot and, let's face it, Belimia," she pointed at me, "over here looks better than you; get over it. Although I think that it's only because you look like a bag lady compared to her. Well, nowadays you do; the dirty bird cleaned up nice. Look, we were friends for a long time… how about I put in a good word for you at the firm if you need the money to buy decent clothes that didn't come from a thrift shop. We have an opening in our janitorial staff; I don't think that you could handle work of my caliber," she said like she was doing Jessica a huge favor. I didn't care for backstabbing ex bestie, but that was cold and totally uncalled-for.

"Lauren, you're a secretary; get over it. You spend more time on your knees servicing your sixty-something-year-old boss than at your desk. You're right; I'm not cut out for your line of work. I respect myself too much to be paid like a whore." As if she wasn't belittled and ignorant of the fact that her presence was unwelcome, she turned her demon blue eyes to me.

"Well I have to say, Bella, you look so much better than when you left. I see that you managed to get over your eating disorder; you look fuller at the edges, especially around the neck and chin area. Your cheeks look chubbier, too. Oh, no wait, I got it! You're pregnant right? Is that a baby bump I see? How far along are you, four… five months?" She babbled on; her blunt teasing had evolved into thinly veiled insults. I wanted to rip those cheap-looking hair extensions out of her scalp and strangle her with it. She was trying to bait me into an argument, but it wasn't going to work; I was confident with my body image knowing that I take pretty good care of myself. I was only a size four.

"I'm not pregnant," I told her coldly. I turned to my drink and ignored her, hoping that she had enough brain cells to take the hint.

"Right," she said, lowering her voice, "you probably don't wanna be broadcasting that, especially if you don't know who the father is. You know… protected sex is always the best when you spread your legs for anyone who comes around." _Are you speaking from experience, whore?_ Even though she sounded oblivious to her stupidity and crudeness, I saw an evil glint in her eyes that told me that she knew exactly what she was saying and doing. Alice looked livid, her face turning different shades of red. Edward, Emmett and Jasper glared murderously. Rosalie looked like she was about to rip her head off.

_Hmm… it seemed to me that they had found a new sense of urgency to protect me from the evils of the world. Or at least the bitchiness that Lauren embodied._

"That's it!" Rosalie yelled, slamming her palm on the table and making us jump. "You have no fucking right to talk to her like that!" Rosalie started to get up to, no doubt, get into Lauren's face. I motioned for her to sit back down, not wanting to start any trouble and draw any more unwanted attention. I just wanted this weekend to fly by as peacefully as possible.

Lauren scoffed. "Since when were you friends with Fugly Duckling?! Last I heard; you were trying to come with places to hide her dead body. You should have just thrown her into the chief's coffin; I'm sure his corpse wouldn't have minded the company. She's a waste of space anyway and dead daddy dearest was a failure at raising her! Hell, he was a failure at his job; wasn't he supposed to catch drunk drivers before they crashed? Leave it to a Swan to find the _only_ danger in Forks and die from it!" _Peaceful just flew right out the window and into a fucking grinder. I am going to fucking murder her._

"Hey, watch your mouth!" Edward growled above the yelling coming from around the table.

"Great, you guys wasted my time," she spat viciously, looking at her watch. "I was supposed to be back at Alistair's half an hour ago!" _To what, suck his cock? Are you_ positive _that you don't get paid by the hour?_

"And that's our fault because…? You were only standing here for fifteenminutes. Why don't you run along and get started on contracting STDs; that money isn't going to make itself, you know," Alice told her angrily.

"Fuck you, cunt!" She retorted in a scowl, spinning around and heading out the door. Did you notice how she didn't put in any effort to refute Alice's inference about her career? I was silently fuming; my hand was twitching and balling into tight fists. Rage clouded my judgment; I needed to hit something, preferably the bitch's face. I may not have been the perfect daughter, but Dad did a great job of raising me on his own. And he was a damn good and highly respected police officer, too! I don't condone violence nor had I ever resorted to it, but in this case, I was going to make an exception. Without warning, my legs swiftly carried me to the exit and out the door. I vaguely heard footsteps running after me. They could have been yelling at me to stop, but I was entirely focused on the fake brunette.

"Hey, puta!" I yelled; it was something that I had learned during my years in Phoenix. Her heels made her clumsy and fairly easy to catch up with. I grabbed her bony shoulder when I reached her and spun her around to face me. I cocked my fist and sent it flying towards her face, not giving her a chance to defend herself. This was ten years in the making and it felt so good to act on this rage. Her head snapped back and I was rewarded with a satisfyingly loud crunch. She staggered backwards, breaking a cheap heel in the process, and clutched her bloody nose. She eventually fell to the floor with her feet up in the air._ I'm so glad that she wasn't wearing a skirt._ The sight and smell of blood usually would have made my stomach turn, but instead, the sight of the sanguine fluid sent me charging after her like an angry bull towards a matador. I had this overwhelming need to hurt her.

_Seriously, who says that shit?! How can anyone be so insensitive to speak ill of the dead?!_

"You bitch! I just had my nose done!" She yelled, ineffectually glaring daggers at me through her red, watery eyes. She looked absolutely pathetic._ Huh... I wonder who paid for all the plastic surgery?_

"Don't you ever disrespect my father, again, do you hear me?!" I kneeled on the damp concrete and straddled her midsection. Her face was the target for my fury and I hoped that the power behind my punch was forceful enough to give her a black eye for weeks to come. My efforts were rewarded by a gratifying smack. Before I could throw another punch to give her a matching shiner, my waist was encircled by two strong arms; Edward. I could smell his natural essence over the clean, musky scent of his cologne; it was sweet and warm, like honey and amber. It was comforting and it managed to calm some of my animosity.

"Get out of my sight, you whore! I better not see you around!" I yelled at her retreating form, struggling against the iron-like prison of Edward's arms. He prevented me from killing her and spending the rest of my life in prison. She stumbled towards her beat up Honda Prelude from the nineteen-eighties, dropping her keys a couple times before she managed to unlock her gray, rusted door and scramble inside. She peeled out of the parking lot with bloody tissues stuck up her nose. I was glad that my hand was free of her blood; there was no telling what kind of viruses she had been carrying.

"Alright, calm down, B.J. Penn. She's gone," Edward muttered in my ear. His deep, smooth, rumbling voice made my body shiver and my lady parts tingle with excitement.

"Damn, Bells, that was hot!" Emmett exclaimed; Jasper punched him in the arm while Rosalie smacked the back of his head. There was a chorus of 'are you okays,' 'Lauren's such a bitch,' and a slew of concerned questions and comments, but all I could concentrate on was the fact that Edward's large, warm hand was holding mine. The ever-present hum of electricity was still flowing between us and was only getting stronger with each passing day.

"You're hurt, we should go get this checked out," he murmured, lightly rubbing my swollen knuckles of my right hand.

"It's nothing I can't handle. I don't think I broke any bones which is a feat considering how hard-headed that witch is," I answered nonchalantly, playing off the pain that made my hand feel like something dislocated. He lowered his head and placed several feather-soft kisses on each of my bruised and inflamed knuckles.

"Aww, that's so cute!" We heard Rosalie and Alice squeal; it resulted in matching blushes between Edward and me. I had forgotten that we were in public; his presence turns me stupid like that.

"Let's go inside to see if we can get our cage fighter some ice," Jasper suggested. We reentered the diner, noticing Jessica standing at our table with plastic bags, foam cups and an ice pack.

"I, uh, packed everything up for you guys. I wasn't sure you'd still want to stay here after your run-in with that walking disaster."

"Aren't you two best friends or something? I don't know why you'd put up with her; that bitch's ego is bigger than Forks." I stated, soothing my hand with a sub-zero bag.

"We were… until I caught her giving my boyfriend some head at the winter formal in January. After that night... I found out pretty quickly that she had a habit of blowing or sleeping with all my boyfriends… while they were still considered my boyfriends."

"Wow that sucks." I felt sorry for her; stabbed in the back, multiple times, by your best friend. That's worse than having a bully; you don't trust a bully not to hurt you, but you expect a friend not to devastate you… kind of like how I had expected Edward and Alice not to betray me. Jessica and I were kindred spirits in that aspect of our lives. On the other hand, I couldn't help but think that she had it coming. Jessica knew that Lauren was a bitch, yet she had followed her orders blindly and mimicked her actions for ten damn years. She only regretted it _after_ she had been burned by Lauren's obnoxious behavior.

"How much do we owe you?" Rosalie asked, digging through her gray Fossil purse for her wallet.

"Don't worry about it, it's on the house. Consider it a welcome home meal and a thank you for putting Lauren in her place."

Even though Jessica was not my favorite person, I had decided to give her a generous tip.

We finished our lunches at the park that was down the street and played on the damp swing set to kill time before our next leg of the journey: Forks Middle School. _Oh, joy. _

***

School had let out half an hour ago, but was still open for afterschool programs, club and faculty meetings, sports, etc. The middle school looked the same: single storey brick and mortar buildings that were connected by glass and metal canopies against a forest backdrop. It was eerie and frightening; the colors were dark and muted from the constant rain and it looked like the developers of the school had laid the foundation in the middle of nowhere. Instead of an academic institution, it looked like the set for the next low budget horror flick. It was a far cry from a middle school in Arizona; they were bright and in the middle of a lively city or suburb. I would take chain link fences and security guards over this oppressive darkness any day. I had to pop a Xanax and carry a paper bag to keep from hyperventilating.

I started walking around the school, Alice at my side and the rest following closely behind, visiting the different classrooms that I had once called my own.

I always sat in the back, under the teacher's radar to keep from being called on and consequently embarrassed by the other students. Teachers had assumed that I was shy and withdrawn, never thinking that the other kids had molded me into a socially awkward kind of person. By the end of sixth grade, I had been established as a loner, a pariah, the outcast daughter of the town's police chief. The older kids didn't give a shit about some scrub. When I had started seventh and eighth grade the younger pupils were sheep, following whatever Edward and Jasper had commanded after Rosalie left and started high school.

We started towards the cafeteria and I had to remind myself that I was no longer that eleven-year old girl who had publicly lost her only friend left. Or the same eleven-year-old who, two months later, found out that her Valentine secret admirer had turned out to be a big public joke. I endured the taunting that had ensued for months after.

I was no longer that twelve-year-old girl who had her science project that she had worked very hard on for a month, ruined by food and drinks. I didn't trust the other students not to sabotage my project in the classroom, so I had carried the board with me throughout the whole day.

Or the thirteen-year-old girl who had food spilled on her for the first time. I remember going through the remaining classes feeling sticky from soda and smelling like macaroni and cheese. It was a week after when I had decided to bring an extra change of clothes.

They had decided to give me some space when I violently shook Alice's comforting gesture off of my shoulder. I didn't know what I was thinking when I had decided to come here. I had no idea how to move forward and get past all this bullshit. I didn't know what to do except sit at my old, empty table in the corner, staring off into space and reliving those awful memories. I was pulled into a hug; the gesture was followed by the scent of apples and honeydew. I tensed when I realized that Rosalie was hugging me fiercely.

"I'm sorry," she whispered. "I was a selfish bitch who had alienated you and broken your spirit before getting to know how sweet and tremendously admirable you were. I could have handled things differently, but I didn't and I'm so sorry that I took it out on you. You were alone because of me... it's my fault. _Everything is my fault_. I'd understand it if you decide not to have any contact with me after this." I could feel the stinging behind my eyes as my nose got stuffy. She still hadn't forgiven herself even though I asked her to. Her hug was replaced by one of Alice's air-constricting hugs.

"I'm sorry that I left you behind because that's essentially what I did. I should have talked to you about it rather than be the idiot that I was and use my exceedingly flawed logic to fix a no-win situation. I should have always been there for you because you deserved none of the hateful things that were thrown your way. I should have tried harder to be the friend that you trusted me to be and showed you that you weren't alone. I should have done a lot of things and I'm sorry that I can't go back and change everything that I had done wrong," she said, pulling back to look into my eyes. Tears slid down my cheeks and she instantly wiped them away before swiping at her own eyes.

Emmett picked me up from my seat into another one of his bone crushing hugs. "I'm sorry that I had been hard headed and didn't stand up for you when you needed someone in your corner. Maybe things would have been different if I had intervened early on. You were kind, compassionate and generous. When you were over at the house, your carefree laughter always made its way through my door and into my room. I just watched as the fire dimmed in your eyes; I did nothing to rekindle it and bring back the person that you were before. I thought that my ego and reputation was more important than your feelings and for that I'll never forgive myself. I had been a coward and I'll always be one." He set me down on my feet and kissed my cheek before taking a seat across from where I was standing. By now my tears were flowing freely; Rosalie handed me a few napkins from the diner.

Emmett's arms were replaced by another's whose hugs were equally as strong as Alice's. "There are no words in any language to express how sorry I am. I was an asshole for making you the scapegoat for my frustrations. I never gave myself a chance to get to know you and I hate myself for that. I missed out on making a really good friend because you're funny, thoughtful, obviously stunning, and most of all you have a beautiful soul; it makes me sick knowing that I had been partly responsible for destroying it. I would understand it if you never forgave me; I know that I don't deserve it," Jasper whispered into my ear. He let go of me and then I was surrounded by the scent that was unique to Edward.

"I'm sorry that I had betrayed your friendship and willingly walked away from the best girl that I had known. No offense, Alice."

"None taken," she replied, laughing softly.

"I used to wake up every day excited to talk to you and hear what you had to say about our futures... about anything as long as you were talking to me. I loved spending time with you, even if it was just for homework or to watch TV as long as you were by my side. And I had thrown it all away for something as trivial and meaningless as wanting to be popular. I had been weak and easily swayed by another person's opinion while you were strong and resilient. I had shattered your trust and, if you'll let me, I want to spend the rest of my life trying to make everything right. But, even then it may not be enough because nothing erases the fact that I hurt you. I don't deserve to have your forgiveness and I wouldn't hold it against you if you never express to me. I'm sorry." He placed a lingering kiss on my forehead; I reveled in the feel of his soft lips against my skin. I buried my face into his chest as his chin rested on top of my head. I basked in the moment and the feel of his arms around me because even though he had frequently wronged me, I couldn't help but feel like we were in this alternate reality where everything was alright and the only dilemma we were faced with was passing this quarter with flying colors.

_It's his feel good pheromones hard at work._

I had already accepted the _fact_ that they apologized; I didn't refuse to hear their apologies, but I made no move to relieve them of that guilt because I really thought that they were only doing it for their _own_ peace of mind. Here, in the vast cafeteria that held most of the student body during nutrition and lunch, it was hard not to hear that they were truly contrite. Yes, they were apologizing to give themselves peace, but first and foremost they were doing it to soothe my mind and to give me a sense of calm, serenity, harmony. However, I still didn't know if I could truly forgive them. I was selfish.

Edward released me from his embrace and I instantly missed the warmth that came with being encapsulated in his arms. My tears had soaked through his gray and black raglan long sleeve.

"Sorry," I murmured, wiping the dark spot with my hand.

"It's okay," he whispered, not wanting to shatter the silence. "Do you want to head on over to the high school now?"

"No," I answered. "It's just more of the stuff that had happened here and I had only been at that school for one and a half months; it isn't significant to me."

"What… what about what happened on your last day?" He asked hesitantly.

"I've put a lot of thought into it and it isn't so much about what had happened in that cafeteria. It's more about coming to terms with what happened after that. The physical pain was an unwelcome change; it was new, but I knew that the harassment would intensify sooner or later. That day had started off bad and it just ended worse."

"I'm sorry for that, too. I didn't know you were going to hit your head. And I'm sorry for laughing; I'm a jerk," Jasper said. I didn't want to tell him that it was okay because it wasn't, so I just nodded my head and noted that he was apologizing again.

"I just want to go take a nap or something; I woke up at seven-thirty." I made a face at that. Edward smiled and mouthed 'sorry.' He had been on the receiving end of my before-nine-AM-bitchiness this morning when he was calling my cell and pounding on my door to ask if I had any coffee to jumpstart his early morning workout session; Alice had forgotten to pick up some coffee while we were at the store yesterday. It was kind of hard to stay mad at him when he was standing in the hallway looking like he was half dead and wearing a threadbare white crew-neck shirt and pajama pants that had yellow ducks all over it. His hair was flattened on one side while the other was in its usual disarray, his eyes were bloodshot and half open and there were imprints of pillow creases on the right side of his face.

We shuffled towards the exit and made our way to the cars. I looked at the school one more time through the tinted windows of my A4; it didn't look so intimidating anymore.

I let Emmett lead the way to his parents' house. Esme and Alice had begged me to stay at the house with everyone after they found out that I planned to get a room at a nearby motel. Jasper's parents were in New York for the next two weeks for their twentieth wedding anniversary and Jasper and Rosalie left no trace of their existence in their parents' home, so they would be staying at the Cullen's as well.

Emmett parked in the garage while I parked out of the way but still close to the front door. After much grumbling and protesting, we finally unloaded the cars and packed the foyer full of luggages.

"Damn, Al, you do realize that we're only here for the weekend, right?" Edward said, gesturing to her seven suitcases. I had been wrong earlier; only the medium sized Dockers rolling luggage and small weekender bag belonged to Rose.

"Yes, that has crossed my mind, Ed. But, I need some way to make room in my closet. I'm only bringing the duffle bag back to Seattle… and the empty suitcases. Okay, well, Mom said that she will be in Port Angeles for another hour on a consultation and Dad will be home around six."

That explained why we hadn't been bombarded with hugs and kisses as soon as we had exited the cars.

Emmett went in search of a snack because the cheeseburger didn't "hit the spot," even after he ate most of mine when I had lost my appetite. Jasper dragged the bags upstairs while Alice and Rosalie "supervised." I took my time to reacquaint myself with the house while Edward followed my lead. The layout was the same, obviously, but everything inside was completely different. The wall color, furniture and electronics had changed while the collection of family moments that were captured on film had expanded. The only constant was the black baby grand in the solarium.

"I think it's time for Beauty to catch up on her sleep. How's your hand? Do you need Tylenol?" Edward asked after I let out an embarrassingly loud yawn. He guided me towards the staircase; I felt the heat emanate from the hand that ghosted on the small of my back.

"Sleep. Sleep sounds good. Hand's good, a little stiff, but no throbbing," I mumbled through another yawn.

"How did you learn to throw a punch like that anyway?"

"Tanya," I replied. He laughed softly and nodded at my one word explanation. I shared a couple stories about Tanya with him; he was officially scared.

All of a sudden his presence was knocked away by an over-exuberant and bouncy Alice. He protested, but was ultimately ignored by his older yet little sister.

"You'll be staying in the guest bedroom across from Edward's. I can't wait for you to see it! I helped Mom decorate it over Christmas break." She tugged on my arm, leaving Edward on his ass at the bottom of the stairs. I looked back to give him an apologetic smile; he smiled back and shook his head lightly.

I was impressed. The cream colored carpet had been replaced by dark hardwood floors. The sage green walls that were meant to calm boisterous children gave way to a glossy vibrant red. Esme and Alice had turned the old play/entertainment room into an elegant guest bedroom that would give a five star hotel a run for their money. A black lacquered dresser complete with matching mirror stood to the left of the doorway. The bed had a thick, white comforter with a black damask design that captured the attention of the room; a black leather headboard and two nightstands that matched the dresser stood against the wall. Black and white pictures of nature dotted the walls in shiny silver and wooden black frames. The double panel sheer white curtains were drawn to the side to reveal the nook and window seat that I had spent countless summer days sitting in. Three sections of white roman blinds were drawn upwards to reveal the clearing where Alice, Edward and I used to have our adventures.

"Wow."

"Thanks! Okay, grab a nap; you look dead on your feet. If you want to take a shower to get Lauren's stink off of you, the bathroom is across the hall, next to Edward's room… in case you forgot. Towels are in the cabinet if you need it. I'll wake you in time for dinner. How's the hand?"

"Thank you. My hand will be fine, no worries. Can you wake me when your mom gets home? I would like to thank her."

"No thanks necessary, Bella. Trust me. She's glad to have you here. But, I'll be back when she gets here." She understood my exhaustion; today was a rollercoaster of emotions.

I removed my boots, placing them next to my luggage, and fell back into the plush bed. I stared up at the glass chandelier that was encased by an ornate black ceiling shade, trying and failing to rid myself of all thoughts. Today went better than I had expected, not counting the diner incident, but I don't hold any optimism for tomorrow. I succumbed to fitful sleep, thinking about the last time I had seen my childhood home, the church where the funeral service had been held and the police station that Dad used to work in. This was going to be a long ass weekend.

* * *

**Puta - Spanish for whore.  
B.J. Penn - UFC Lightweight champ.**

**Well, damn, who hates Lauren? Before you readers start getting all fired up and pissy about Bella's decision to talk with her fists instead of her words... remember that it's just a story, so relax. If you could handle it differently, then I applaud you for your self-control; I would have broken out my brass kuncks and beat the shhh out of the [bleeping] [bleep].**

**Football fans... Super Bowl Sunday is coming up: Saints vs. Colts, whose side are you on?**

**Lakers fans... they are in Portland going up against the Blazers. Show them some love and cheer them on to kick some ass... especially since nobody got free tacos last night =(**

**Leave me lots of love =D I don't bite, I promise!  
(Edward's brush with lunacy and the reference to Em's bunny costume in chapter 9 were outtakes. I love referencing them, they're like my little inside jokes.) _None_ for this chapter... maybe next one =]**

**Parting words that have nothing to do with the story: **_it takes many nails to build a crib, but one screw to fill it._ **I saw it somewhere and thought it was funny.**

**Thanks for reading!**


	12. Chapter 12

**Hello, all! Thanks for tuning in and being patient with me. I'm gonna keep this short and sweet. Then, if you like, you may read my ramblings at the bottom of the page.**

**Reviews were awesome. Common trend: everyone hates Lauren. Thank you to those who had alerted and faved.**

**Sorry that it took me a long time to update, turns out that my laziness was a small case of writer's block.**

**Warning: Chapter content may cause you to get misty-eyed. So, grab some tissue if the need arises.**

**Lemon for this chapter can be found on my blog... link on profile and A/N at the end.**

**Disclaimer: Anything you recognize as Twilight belongs to Stephenie Meyer.**

**Happy reading!**

* * *

_Although tears are falling down_  
_And you're filled with pain right now,_  
_Remember the good times we had together._  
_Look in your heart, I'll be there forever._  
_I know it feels far away,_  
_But know that I'm here to stay_  
_In your thoughts and in your mind;_  
_The memories of the good times._  
_So, smile then laugh,_  
_have peace on my behalf._  
_Know that we'll never be apart,_  
_Look no further than your heart._  
- Excerpt from _Forever (Taktikz Tribute)_ by Ara Veney and Boy Wonda... **according to my iPOD.**

* * *

A shrill chiming originating from my BlackBerry woke me from a restless sleep. Rolling over and nearly getting stuck in the middle of the downy bed, I reached for my phone on the opposite nightstand. The ornate white clock to the left of the glass lamp read a quarter to five; I had been asleep for forty minutes. The flashing, red LED indicated a new message. It's either junk mail or Renee checking on me for the fifteenth time this week. I had been dodging her calls after the seventh one, so she resorted to sending emails. Other times, Sophia became her informant. It wasn't that I was unhappy that she cared to check on me; it was that she asked the same questions all the frickin' time.

_How am I? Fine. Am I alright? Yes. School? Eh. Friends? Sure. Am I going to Forks? Definitely. Do I need all three of them to drop what they're doing to fly over and make sure I don't have a meltdown? No._

Sighing, I pulled up my messages and smiled when I read a reply from my flaxen-haired best friend. I resumed my original position, resting my head on one of the firm, contoured pillows and crossed my legs at the ankles.

_Hi Bella!_

_It is so freaking good to hear (read… whatever) from you! I haven't heard from Ang or Kate, yet; I think I'll email them tonight. I've been crazy busy, so no need to apologize there; communication is a two-way street. As you know, I didn't leave Phoenix until the last possible minute and classes started four days after I had arrived, so I'm still trying to settle in. There are boxes that have yet to be unpacked and are currently gathering dust in the corner of my room._

_I'm sitting in a lecture hall right now, waiting for my poli sci class to start. My parents wanted me to go above and beyond a full load to see it I can get my bachelor's degree in three years instead of four. They're ambitious like that. According to them, I'm in college to complete my education, not experiment (sexually) or party until I pass out. Hmph, shows how much they know me; I hate parties. Well, I guess if it makes them happy, right? So, in order to spread out my schedule and hang onto my sanity, I've taken advantage of Northwestern's night classes. Thus, my ass is parked in an uncomfortable wooden seat at 6:30 on a Friday night. Fun times…_

_Those devil spawns better be nice to you because I will not hesitate to jump on a plane and kick some major ass if one hair on their heads crosses the line. I love how your mind works by the way and I hope that you elaborate on that in the future; I need some funny in my life. They deserve whatever you dish out and more. If you think that the Jolly Green Giant and Thumbelina don't need any punishment, then I trust your judgment. _However_, I can't promise that I'll behave myself when I finally come face to face with those freaking lemmings._

_Speaking of devil spawns – my roommate is a totally inconsiderate, cocksucking, ass face bitch from hell! I swear that she was specifically designed to annoy the shit out of me. She's the reason why I didn't take any online courses or lounge in the dorm; I prefer to be anywhere far from her. My parents want me to have the whole college experience; getting to know my roommate and the inhabitants of the hall, so they opted out of getting an apartment for me. But, they also expect me to dodge any parties that may be held on my floor. I don't have a job nor do I have time to look for one, so there is no way I'm going to make rent with the $450/month bank account they had set up in my name. They believe in not spoiling their only child because "it breeds selfishness." _

_You are so lucky that you live in your own apartment. I'll take the two-faced Cullens over her any day; I've had it up to my eyeballs with that dirty ass heifer! Her dirty clothes – _used_ underwear included – are always scattered on the floor and sometimes her shit ends up getting kicked underneath my small ass bed. Yeah, I found out the gross way when I had to find a pair of my wedges under my bed. Obviously, someone's never heard of a hamper. She leaves trash on every available surface (never in the trash can) with the exception of my bed; I pick it up and throw it away because you know how much that shit irks me. _

_She walks around the room in a tank (no bra) and too-tight undies (gag)... sometimes it's a thong. It doesn't help that she has more dimples than cottage cheese and more ripples that the Pacific Ocean… not a pleasant sight. That girl has no shame. I usually leave when she walks into the room, knowing that she would strip down as soon as the door is closed; it keeps me from blowing up in her face and creating problems. Housing told me that all the rooms are full and nobody is willing to switch with me, so I'm stuck with her until the end of the semester (hopefully), otherwise I have one long ass year ahead of me._

_To top it all off, she sleeps with her fucking iPod dock radio on full fucking blast! What's worse is that one song is on fucking repeat for eight hours straight. I've asked her nicely to turn it down or use her earbuds, but, apparently, a lower volume for her is just under earsplitting for me. Oh, and she's afraid of being strangled by the cord in her sleep. Personally, I don't see the problems with that. I haven't had a decent night's sleep in almost two months; I'm not above fantasizing about her death by strangulation. Ear plugs can only filter out so much noise._

_Okay, rant over… I'm sorry about your D. I would tutor you via Skype, but my schedule sucks; I barely have enough time to breathe. Great news about the hottie tutor though. Send me his pic, I wanna meet him when I visit you for spring break. Yes, I am going to Seattle in March; I wanna meet the people who gave you a hard time, then give them a hard time… unless you plan on being somewhere else. Let me know!_

_To answer your questions, the only guys I've had the displeasure of meeting were stoners who only get up off the couch long enough to grab a bag of chips or to take a piss, players who fuck anyone with a pair of tits and a pussy, and arrogant asshole who think that all I care about is the location for the next kegger. Evidently, I look like a party girl, never mind that I have no interest in being practically molested by horny, sweaty, drunk guys._

_The only people that I socialize with are the ones in my study groups, not sure if I can call that socializing because all we do is study. And, yes, I have been propositioned… by my _female_ professor. She's the instructor for the class I'm sitting in right now and is presently checking out my rack. Damn, I knew I should've worn the oversized hoodie. Don't get me wrong, she's young, hot and has a tight little body; I'd do her, but I just don't swing that way. Pink tacos don't do it for me. Although, considering the zero luck in the guy department, I may reconsider her offer; this may be the only chance I get to experiment. I'm kidding! Now _that_ would be unethical._

_The lecture is about to start and the asshole behind me keep bugging about notes. Ick… if I need a backrub, then I'd ask for one, right? That pencil dick seriously needs to stop touching me or he won't have a hand to fuck himself with._

_Gotta go, love you girlie! _

_XO,  
Tanya_

Talking to Tanya has always put a smile on my face; my verbal filter escapes me at times, but she had been born without one. She was brutally honest and didn't mind voicing her opinions when the person _deserved_ a verbal smackdown. It was a good thing that her cousin taught her how to kickbox because her mouth had gotten her into trouble more times than I could count.

In high school, Tanya had been unofficially labeled as a brawler, even though she looked like she had never been in a fight. It was a miracle that she hadn't been kicked off the swim team. Tanya had never done nor said anything to provoke the hostility in the other catty girls, but when aggravated, she hadn't stopped herself from mouthing off and starting fights.

At first glance, Tanya looked like the perfect all-American girl; the unbelievably beautiful daughter of a former runway model turned photographer and a successful defense attorney, swim team superstar and, if we had been in Forks, the kind of girl who would define the popular crowd. But, when you look past all the glamour and the tough, shiny exterior, you see a girl who had been raised by her nanny and was still starving for her parents' affection, attention and approval. Her father worked long hours and usually stayed away from the house days on end. Her mother frequently traipsed around the world, photographing exotic locations and people for _National Geographic_ or the top ten beaches for _Condé Nast Traveler._

Since T had been raised by her kind-hearted nanny and not her cold, aloof parents, she was fiercely loyal to her friends and an advocate for those who couldn't stand up for themselves. You'd never guess that the girl who has the ability to recite the history of every high-end fashion designer in her sleep had also been a volunteer at a local shelter where they were known to offer counseling to those who had been raped or abused.

She may come off as crass, crude, blunt or rude, but deep down she has a heart of gold.

"Oh, you're up!" Alice chirped, opening the door wider. "Mom's home if you wanna come down."

"Uh, right, give me a second… gotta find some shoes."

"Take your time. We'll be in the kitchen," she replied, exiting the room.

After rooting around in my luggage for my Chucks, I pulled them onto my feet and made my way down the walnut staircase.

Esme was timeless; other than a few more laugh lines, she looked the same as she did the first time I met her nine years ago. Her bronze soft waves flowed neatly down her back, not a hair out of place. The stylish, frameless glasses she was wearing accentuated her vibrant, striking green eyes. Her impeccable taste in clothing showed in her pin-striped pantsuit and Prada platform pumps. One would think that the way she was dressed at the moment, she belonged in a high-rise office over-looking the city with a phone permanently attached to her ear. But, her face showed such warmth, love and affection; it conflicted with the ball-busting-business-woman aura her clothing exuded. She took one look at me, her face erupting in a wide smile, and engulfed me in a strong hug. The familiar scent of her Chanel perfume and the warmth radiating from her body made me feel nostalgic.

During the two years that her children and I had been best friends, she had become like a mother to me. She cared for me like I had been one of her own. On occasion, she had instructed Edward to give me a batch of her homemade cookies or cupcakes during a school lunch, complete with a personalized note. She had hugged and kissed me goodbye at the end of each day when Dad had picked me up from the Cullen's house after his shift was over.

After Alice, Edward and I had a "falling out," it had been my choice to cut off _all _communications with the family. But, Esme was persistent; she had frequently invited Dad and me over for dinner, which I commonly declined under the suspicious gaze of my father. She had always attempted to push me and her children together by including me in a variety of different activities.

Dad had never figured out what had happened between the Cullen children and me. He dropped the inquisition after he was met with the same answers over fifty times: "we just grew apart." Hell, Esme didn't even know the real reasons for my abandonment and she was kind of nosy. I guess if kids really don't want their parents to find out about something, chances are they usually won't.

Since all major holidays in La Push were a given, I didn't have to hear the disappointment in Esme or Carlisle's voice when we turned down their offer for another dinner. However, holidays on the reservation were filled with loneliness. While Dad talked, laughed and drank with his friends, I sat off to the side somewhere with my nose in a book or a journal. It hadn't been like I had that many people to talk to.

Mrs. Clearwater's daughter, Leah, was a year older than me, but didn't like me too much because she hadn't liked the idea of sharing her mother with me. Seth, Leah's younger brother, was a newborn baby. Rachel and Rebecca Black were seventeen-year-old twins and had a four-year-old brother, Jacob.

After the string of failed friendships, I grew painfully shy and even more withdrawn, thus making friends was not an easy task for me.

I helped Esme cook dinner while Alice sat at the island, observing and asking questions; the rest had gathered in the living room arguing about which PS3 games to play. Conversation flowed easily; it felt natural to talk to Esme about school, Phoenix and my non-existent love life. She asked about Edward, noting the way that we had gravitated towards each other when we were in the same room. She told me that she had noticed a small sparkle in my eyes when I caught sight of him and how he had broken out in an involuntary goofy grin when I walked into the room. Of course, I denied her not so subtle hints about feelings that rhymed with dove blooming between the two of us. That was a ridiculous notion; it was only a month ago that I hated him. I felt myself blush when she gave me a knowing smile while Alice gave me her version of an amused crooked grin.

Carlisle came home in time for us to put the finishing touches on the chicken tetrazzini. He went upstairs to wash up and change while Em and Edward set the table.

"So, I had an interesting conversation today," Carlisle informed us, taking a portion off of the serving dish. He looked like he was fighting a smile.

"Yeah, about what, honey?" Esme asked, truly interested in her husband's day.

"It had appeared that Miss Mallory had been attacked," he said. Now it looked like her was fighting the urge to laugh. There were snickers and coughs to cover up the laughter around the table.

"Is she alright?" Esme gasped, she was concerned even when the injured party doesn't deserve any sympathy.

"She'll be fine, a little bloodied and bruised. At least she doesn't have to get her nose done again."

"Does she know who it was?"

"Um, I think she tripped," Rosalie piped in.

"Yeah, then she broke her heel and fell face first into a door," Alice finished.

"Um, no, it's alright, you don't have to lie for me. I did it. I... I punched her... in her fake face," I said, my face heating up at my confession.

"If I may speak candidly, Bella, I can tell you without a doubt that Lauren Mallory is a pain in my ass. I'm sure that whatever she had said to warrant such a reaction from _you _was well-deserved. But, I do have to warn you that she wants to press charges. I would also like to tell you that I had gone temporarily deaf when you had uttered your last statement." I looked at Carlisle in surprise. I wonder what she had said or done to get on Doctor C's bad side; probably offer quick fucks in exchange for medical payments. Or maybe she had blatantly grabbed his junk.

"Carlisle!" Esme admonished; he gave her a pointed look. "Yeah, she is a pain and she has no manners at all. Remember when she had invited herself to my birthday dinner two years ago? She sat next to Edward, attempting to stick her tongue in his ear in front of all of us and proceeded to use foul language throughout dinner."

My face screwed up in disgust as I looked across the table at Edward. "Eww, you dated her?"

"What?! No! She just couldn't take the hint that I had no interest in her. You know she's hard-headed; she ran into your fist today!" He exclaimed.

"I never witnessed such a thing!"Jasper chuckled. Lie.

"Me neither," Rosalie concurred with a smirk. Lie.

"I was sketching a new dress for the spring line," Alice piped in. Lie.

"I was talking to Rosie about Jello wrestling," Emmett said matter-of-factly. That was probably true.

"Hey, I was talking to you about the music on your iPod," Edward said to me. Lie.

"I didn't hear anything," Mr. and Mrs. Cullen replied. The people around the table exploded in laughter. I didn't _want _to do the responsible thing and own up to my actions because that slut deserved it, but I couldn't help but feel like I was beginning to turn into something that I abhorred. Rose, Jazz and Edward had never owned up to their actions and I promised myself that I would never turn out like them. So, here are my options: potentially go to jail for delivering justice on a totally disrespectful bitch _or _make her the exception to my promise because she's a totally disrespectful bitch.

_Hmm, I think I'll go with the second one. Case closed. I wonder if there were any witnesses at the restaurant._

Dinner ended with joyful banter and light teasing followed by Call of Duty on the Playstation 3. We all turned in early, considering we were starting our day at eight o'clock tomorrow morning with breakfast; Edward promised to program the coffee maker to turn on at seven. This has got to be one of the most exhausting weekends I've had in a long while; so many early starts.

*

"AHHHHHHHHHH!"

I jerked myself awake at the sound of the high-pitched scream and away from the erotic scenario that my dirty mind dreamed up.

_What the hell was that?!_

I was disoriented; the bed was soft and plush, but felt nothing like mine. Red walls? Mine were bronze and lavender. Where the hell am I? What the fu-- Forks… I was in Forks… at the Cullens… and there is probably someone being murdered on the opposite side of my door.

"JASPER, YOU FUCKER!" Ah, by the sounds of it, the soprano-like scream belonged to Edward; the literal co-star of my naughty dreams. I threw the covers aside and shot out of bed clad in my white camisole and blue flannel pajama shorts and then silently cracked the door open to take a peek.

Jasper darted out of Edward's wide open doorway, cackling, with a Freddy Kruger mask pushed up on his head. Edward was hot on his heels, wearing nothing but a pair of gray, striped pajama pants. Does he ever wear a t-shirt to sleep?

_Does it matter? He looks all kinds of hot right now. It had been too long since I had seen him half naked. That dream doesn't count; it wasn't real -- unfortunately._

"That's what you get for putting spiders in my duffel bag!" He laughed. Edward lunged forward, grabbing the mask and throwing it to the side before putting Jasper in a headlock.

"You're an ass! I almost pissed my pants!" Edward hissed. That was the wrong thing to say because Jasper started gasping and desperately trying to catch his breath between his laughter. "And those weren't even real spiders! They were rubber!"

"Yeah, so is this mask," he retorted.

"I'm getting you for this, Whitlock!" Edward warned, releasing his hold.

"Bring it on, Cullen," Jasper taunted and smirked.

"Uh, guys? What the hell?! What time is it?" I hissed. Their heads snapped to me as I poked my head through the opening, hiding my body behind the door. My eyes were squinted, staring at them in the dim light and my voice was still thick with sleep.

"Just after eight," Jasper replied. Aw, crap. I slept through my alarm. "Everyone's ready; you two are the last ones up. Emmett said to hurry up because he's starving; he said that he wasn't 'in the mood for cereal that tastes like the box it comes in.' Esme and Carlisle left about half an hour ago. You guys can shave ten minutes off and conserve water if you shower together," he smiled, wiggling his eyebrows. Edward blushed and threw the Kruger mask in his face.

_Hmm... don't tempt me. We may never get out of the shower._

"It was just a thought, no need to get violent. Uh, Bella, you might wanna start getting ready before Ali comes up here to dress you herself. She's convinced that you're having a hard time deciding what to wear."

I didn't need to be told twice. I had already gone through a whole day of being a living doll. I have no idea how models and people in the entertainment business can stand all the pestering. I had been poked and prodded with hair appliances, brushes, and makeup throughout the whole day; not to mention the various wardrobe changes. Hours of Alice telling me to close my eyes, blot, tilt my head a certain way, don't move an inch, try this on and twirl had me ready to pull out my hair and hers. That had been the first and last time I've told Alice that I was bored.

Deciding to risk another explosive encounter, we ate breakfast at the diner. Luckily for us, Lauren was MIA and Jessica wasn't in yet. Unfortunately, the restaurant was filled with familiar faces who had actively aided in my humiliation and others who had turned the other cheek and dismissed my degradation because my feelings didn't matter one bit. The worst thing of all was that they were acting like Jessica; talking and behaving like they had done no wrong. At least the Cullens, Rosalie and Jasper had the sense to look hesitant and remorseful the first time they had showed up at my condo.

I lost my appetite when my supposed Valentine secret admirer came over to make small talk with me and my companions. Their reaction to Alexander Lawson was the exact opposite of their attitude towards Jessica and Lauren; they were polite, friendly and all smiles. Either he had grown up to be a good guy or everyone was putting on one hell of a show.

When it came time for him to say goodbye, he gave me what I can only describe as a sincerely warm and friendly smile. There was no hostility or plans to trip me on the way out brewing behind his warm brown eyes. Knowing that my "friends" hadn't jumped on him and torn him apart like rabid animals gave me some comfort in thinking that he had been genuine. I was left stunned as I watched him leave with his family.

I suggested that the group go home or hang out somewhere in Port Angeles, but they had insisted that they be there for me every step of the way.

They decided to give me some time to gather my thoughts and piled into the Porsche after a small disagreement.

It had been comical to watch Emmett and Alice fight over the driver's seat. Alice had exclaimed that it was her SUV, so she was entitled to drive it whenever she wanted while Emmett had pointed out that she gets to drive it all the time _because_ it's her SUV, so there's no harm in handing over the keys once in a while. The only reason he had refused to budge was because he wanted to test the Porsche's ability to handle turns at a high speed. Idiot.

Emmett had dangled the key ring on his right index finger, high above Alice's head; she had jumped and struggled to reach for them. Rosalie and Jasper had been instructed to stay out of it by their respective significant others. In the end, Alice had delivered a series of quick but powerful jabs to Emmett's body, bringing him to his knees. Alice had given her brother a wide triumphant smile as she snatched her keys away from his grasp.

We pulled out of the parking lot and drove down the familiar route towards the house that I had called home for the first fourteen years of my life.

As we pulled up and parked across the street, I stared at the alien house; it was nothing like I had remembered. My feelings were a mixture of elation and disappointment. It was great to see that this beautiful house was brought to its full potential, but a twinge of sadness engulfed me, knowing that my involvement in this transformation had been non-existent. As a child I had helped Dad around the house, fixing and installing things, gardening, beautifying the home in general, but he had a job to do and many projects were left undone.

The previously whitewashed exterior walls had been painted over in a pastel lemon meringue color. The current owners had added off-white scalloped trim along the edges of the house near the roof as well as non-functional shutters. The porch had been done in the same eggshell color, not the varnished wood I recall, with a wrought iron and wooden bench along the wall. Three decorative metal lanterns with fiery orange glass panels hung from the ceiling, replacing the single light bulb and simple white shade.

The once bare flower beds along the front of the house were bursting with color; primroses, rose bushes and winter pansies were among the most prevalent. The baskets underneath the windows were overflowing with fuchsia plants.

The tree that was supposed to be close to my bedroom window had been removed along with the bird feeder that I had begged Dad to put up for me. I had been determined as a little girl, wanting to capture some birds that would help me clean up my room like in _Snow White _or _Cinderella_.

A white archway trellis crawling with jasmine stood proudly before the house at the beginning of the walkway. The plain concrete pathway leading from the sidewalk to the steps of the porch had been replaced by stylish cobblestone. Rows of colorful winter pansies lined each side with the same style of lanterns, dotting the area to give light to a darkened walkway.

I closed my eyes and pictured my home just as I had left it the morning of the accident, exactly four years ago.

*

A monstrous and rusted Chevy truck sat in solitude in the driveway. Dad had already taken the cruiser and left for the day just as I preferred it to be; it would be harder for him to criticize my choice in breakfast or lack thereof. With my umbrella in one hand, I locked the red front door and walked towards the end of the walkway. My backpack was filled with school items and extra clothes and weighed heavily on my back. I turned around to look at my home, my place of peace and solace from the hell I endured at school, and gazed at my bedroom window. I had left the drapes open, revealing the crystal that Dad had given to me when I wanted to catch the sun and make "pretty colors."

When I had been a small child fascinated by stories and fairytales, it had seemed like sunshine and rainbows went hand in hand with happiness and I wanted that for my dad and myself. We were happy as a two-person family, but there had always been a hint of sadness in Dad's eyes and I knew it was because he missed Renee – his other half. It was an emptiness that his daughter's vibrant smiles and tinkling laughter could not fill, no matter how hard I had tried to make him laugh.

In later years, I had come to the realization that it pained him to look at me sometimes because I looked a lot like my mother; I had her brown eyes, her nose, and the same smile. While my hair color came from my father, it had been wild and wavy just as hers had been. However, that had no impact on how he treated me… like a princess and the center of his universe. He did all he could to provide for me.

Over the last three hellish years, rare incidents of sunshine and rainbows had occured, but my happiness was still buried deep under a mountain of betrayal and hurt. That prism was nothing but a painful reminder of what I would never completely have.

I walked away and started towards school, not having the slightest idea or feeling that this day was going to be a turning point in my life.

*

I felt the burn of tears build up behind my tightly closed eyes and I fought to keep them at bay; it was futile, they slipped past my lashes and spilled down my face as I recalled the events later that night.

James had told me that the driver who had hit Charlie was dead and all I had been thinking about was how easy it had been for her. She never had to stand trial knowing that she had taken a life because of her idiotic and dangerous decision to get behind the wheel while inebriated. I had seriously hoped that she was burning in hell if she wasn't here to take responsibility for the consequences of her deadly actions.

"Do you want to go inside?" Alice whispered. I opened my eyes and saw that her green eyes, the color of a new leaf in spring, were glassy and her face was etched with concern.

_Yes, but I'm not sure._

"We know the owners," she continued when I remained silent. "They're a nice retired couple from Olympia. They bought it a few months after you left... come on, I'll go with you." She pulled me forward and instructed the others to stay in the cars.

An old woman in her late sixties answered the door a few minutes after Alice had rung the bell. She was wearing a denim button-down shirt with jeans and boots and had a pair of garden gloves in one hand. Her short, gray hair was cropped above her shoulders; she reminded me of Gran. Her eyes were warm, lips thin and her face showed evidence of many laugh lines.

"Hello! What brings you here? I thought you'd be in Seattle until November."

"Hi, Mrs. Brennan!" Alice smiled. "We decided to come home for a little visit. This is my friend, Bella."

"Hi, Bella, I'm Judy, _please_ don't call me Mrs. Brennan, she was my horrid, meddlesome mother-in-law." She shuddered with a grimace on her face. I gave her a small smile and replied with a quiet hello. When it was clear that I would not be elaborating on anything, Alice took the initiative on conversation.

"Bella grew up in Forks and moved away a few years ago," Alice informed Judy. "Um," she paused. "I know that you're busy, but we were wondering if... if we could take a look around your house? It's just that Bella used to live here." Alice wrung her hangs together and fidgeted.

"_Isa_bella Swan?" She questioned, staring at me with sympathy. I nodded in response. "I'm so sorry for you loss." I replied with a whispered 'thank you.'

She stared at me a moment longer, compassion burning in her caramel eyes. "Oh, right! How rude of me! Come in, come in!" She urged as she opened the door wider, allowing me to peek into _her_ home.

The walls had changed from a light sky blue to an earthy moss green. Foreign family pictures hung on the wall by the stair case. The doorway where my growth chart had been kept since I had been able to stand on my own two feet had been displaced by new door moldings. The shoe scuffs on the linoleum floor of the foyer from Dad's work boots had been replaced by shiny hardwood. Everything had changed, there was no evidence that my father and I had ever lived here. There was no reason to keep my room or Charlie's in the same condition it had been left in. They've renovated the whole house, why not there, also? Even the big red door that I had helped Dad paint one weekend had been replaced; we had signed the bottom of the door because I had told him that's what artists do. I couldn't stop the briny liquid that fell from my red eyes and shook my head as if to clear my mind.

"Are you sure you don't want to have a look around? I really don't mind," Judy said, looking at me with concern.

"N-no, thank you. We have to get going. You have a beautiful home," I choked out. "Thank you for taking very good care of it," I whispered, taking a step back. Alice grasped my hand tightly to comfort me.

"Thank you, Mrs. Brennan; we're sorry if we bothered you."

"It's no problem, girls. Come see me again… anytime." I smiled at her, neither accepting nor declining her invitation. Maybe I would visit her in the future when the pain isn't so fresh. I could feel her eyes on us as we walked down her fancy, stone path towards the car.

"Maybe I should drive?" Alice hinted, passing me a few tissues. Wordlessly, I handed over my car key and dejectedly walked over to the passenger side. I stared out of my window, seeing but not looking as green and brown blurs flew past us.

We drove to La Push and swung by Sue's flower shop; each individual bought their own bouquets. A dozen stems of pink peonies and a promise to return in the future for dinner at the Clearwater's later, we were back on the road.

It seemed that in no time at all, we had reached our next destination: the church cemetery. I exhaled a shaky breath and reached for the handle to open the door. We made our trek through the grass, completely bypassing the church and walked straight towards a specific upright grave marker. There were flowers that had already crowded the gravesite like a shrine. The others hung back to give me some privacy. I kneeled on the damp grass in front of the granite headstone, careful not to trample the flowers in front of me, and read the epitaph as my fingers traced over the engravings.

_In loving memory of  
Charles Swan  
July 23, 1965 – October 10, 2005  
Father. Friend. Protector.  
Peace is thine and sweet remembrance is ours._

"Hi, Dad, I miss you," I whispered shakily, smiling at his picture and leaving the bouquet on top of the stone memorial.

"I know that I haven't talked to you in a while and I'm sorry. A lot of things have happened since I've seen you last. I've made some really good friends who put up with all my quirks, but still love me anyway. I've gotten to know my mother pretty well; I can understand why you loved her so much. I have a sister, Soph, can you believe that? I can't lie to you and tell you that I was ecstatic about that idea; she's only four years younger than me and she got to know both of her parents her entire life. But, we're okay now... I promise. Phil's a good man; he treats Renee like a queen and me like his own, but nobody can replace you, Daddy. I'll always be _your _little princess." My throat closed up and I took a moment to swallow that lump before I continued.

"There had a lot of close calls, some due to my clumsiness others not to so much. I'm sorry that you had to watch me get my stomach pumped, I swear that I didn't mean to do it; I just wanted everything to stop hurting. There was a freak storm in the desert that night… I really didn't mean to make you cry. It was hard for me even before you left. You probably want to scold me for keeping you in the dark, huh?

"I'm not sure how much you're aware of, but the kids at school didn't like me so much. No, that's an understatement. They hated me with a passion for some reason. I believe that Rosalie started the "I hate Bella" bandwagon, but even before that most kids just stayed out of my way and didn't bother talking to me. Rosalie had explained to me her feelings about me and while her behavior made sense, considering the background she came from, I find it really hard to completely forgive her. I find it hard to forgive anyone of them. I know that they probably had their reasons and in their adolescent minds it had made total and complete sense, but am I supposed to just let everything slide because we were young and stupid? Or do I keep on punishing them for their sins even though they had sincerely apologized?" I asked, almost pleading with an inanimate stone object to give me an answer. Thunder boomed over head and I took that as a 'no.'

"Was that a 'no, don't let it slide?' Or a 'no, don't punish them?' Ugh, I feel like I'm going crazy. I'm taking signs from the weather. What would you do, Dad? You'd probably lock them in the interrogation room and refuse to let them out until you've scared the crap out of them, right?" I joked.

"I know that you're all for fairness, equality and being the bigger person. I've already talked to Rosalie and Alice at length, but I have yet to talk to the boys. I promise that I'll evaluate every conversation and try my best to forgive them. What do you think?" I waited for a sign; a break in the clouds, rain, thunder, lightening, wind, anything. Nothing had changed. Other than the biting temperature, nothing was wrong and everything was still. It was like the calm before the storm.

"Please, Dad, I really need you to help me through this. Please just tell me what you want me to do! What am I supposed to do?! I've always valued your advice and opinion and you're not even here to give it to me anymore!" I whined, on the verge of crying. The lack of answer on his part made me angry.

"How could you just leave me like that? Why didn't you fight harder to stay?! I need you _here_! You're supposed to be here! I'm not supposed to be sitting here talking to you headstone! You're supposed to be invincible; you weren't supposed to die!" I wailed.

"You didn't sit in the stands to see me graduate from high school! You didn't celebrate with me when I got into UW with a full ride scholarship! You missed my eighteenth birthday! You won't be there to hug me when I graduate from college, you can't give me away at my wedding, and your grandchildren won't know you. You're supposed to be here. I didn't even get to tell you that I love you," I choked out in a dying whisper. A strangled sob left my throat before I was engulfed in the tightest hug. Alice buried her face into my shoulder and Edward tucked my head under his; both of them quietly crying. Soon, they all followed suit and turned it into a cliché group hug, allowing me to calm down after my mental breakdown.

We stayed in that tight embrace, crying, sniffling and hiccuping. They murmured expressions of sympathy and comfort, never telling me not to cry or that everything will be fine. They didn't rush me, allowing me to work through the emotional turmoil.

I don't know how long we had been sitting there, but the sky had decided to lighten up. After I had calmed myself down enough to take in a full breath of air, they all let go and watched me intently as I watched a white feather drift down from the sky, coming to rest at my knees.

*

"Daddy, where's does Gran live now?" I had asked him while staring at a small grave marker with words that I had no idea how to pronounce. We had taken a trip up to Oak Harbor to finally pack up my grandparents' home.

"With Pop-pop... in heaven, baby," he had told me, his voice thick with tears. Grandma Swan had passed away one month earlier in late June. I had missed her dearly. Her driving all the way to Forks or us going all the way to Oak Harbor had not been unusual. Dad had tried to convince her time and time again to pick up and move back to Forks, but she would not budge because Oak Harbor was Grandpa Swan's final resting place. They had grown tired of living in a small town of a little less than three thousand people at the time and found a quaint home in their price range in this city.

"I miss her," I had told him, sadly. Gran always knew how to cheer me up when I had been sad or bored to tears; she had played dress-up with me, had given me candy behind Dad's back, sang lullabies and tucked me into bed when Dad had a late shift at work, and woke me up countless times by tickling my sides. I had also adopted my love of reading from her.

"I do, too, sweetie."

"Do you think she can see us from heaven? It looks really far away," I had told him as I looked up wide-eyed at the gray sky.

"Of course she can. Angels have the best eyesight in the universe. Sometimes they even visit us here on earth."

"Then, how come we can't see them?"

"Because they're invisible, princess. Their wings have a special glitter--"

"Like Tinkerbell's fairy dust?" I had asked in awe.

"Exactly, but instead of making you fly, it turns you invisible."

"But, then how do you know angels visit us if you can't see them?" I had asked, my face screwing up in confusion.

"See that right there?" He had asked me, pointing at a floating white feather. I had nodded vigorously in response. "That's how you know there's an angel with you. Gran left it for you to let you know that she will always watch over you."

I had been so excited when he told me that I had loosened my hold on his hand and sprang forward towards the feather, catching it in the air.

"No, no, no, but you can't touch it. Their feathers still have a little dust on them, so you might turn invisible. Then, I wouldn't be able to find you anywhere."

I had gasped in horror. "Oh, no! Come on, Daddy, I have to go wash my hands! I might turn invisible and you might leave me here!" I had exclaimed tugging on his hand. He had laughed heartily and allowed me to pull him to the car. I had made him wash his hands, also, in case any of the disappearing angel glitter had transferred to my dad.

*

I found out a few years later that the white angel's feather that I had been so excited about turned out to be a feather from a regular, unspecial bird. The angel glitter didn't exist, it had been Dad's way of getting me to rid my hands of the possible germs it might have carried. But, the significance of it was too hard to ignore; this was only the second time in my life that a white feather had drifted by me – in a cemetery no less.

This had been the sign I was waiting for. I was determined to forgive them.

* * *

**A/N: Yeah, I had to end it. There is much more to this day and I'm sure you won't appreciate having to read over thrity pages of it in one sitting.**  
**So, who cried? Had tears? Don't lie.**  
**Sooooo, anyone have any roommate horror stories? Tanya's roommate is actually based on a real girl. Sick, I know.**

**Like I said at the top: there is a very short lemon for this chapter (it may be half-assed because I just decided to write it). With all the drama surrounding FF and authors being asked to pull their stories for violating the TOS, I decided to start a blog:  
anactofcontrition(.)blogspot(.)com  
(you can also find the link on my profile). Better safe than sorry.  
I can't complain, I know what the rules are. **

**I do plan to write smutty full-length fics and lemony one-shots, but they will be posted on my blog... because I just found out how to work the basics =) If you're interested, I'll give you more information when I master the damn website and get around to writing the stories. Another good way to keep up with me: Twitter... link of my profile, as well.**

**Thanks for reading!**

**Review please!**


	13. Chapter 13

**Welcome back! Very sorry to keep you waiting; I have no excuses other than pure laziness.**

**Reviewers: you ROCK my world! Very special treat for you at the end. New Readers: welcome, welcome... glad you could join us. Readers: hope you're enjoying it so far.**

**Disclaimer: Anything you recognize as being part of the Twilight Saga belongs to Stephenie Meyer -- lucky [bleep].**

**Happy reading!**

* * *

Anyone who angers you, conquers you.  
_- Anonymous_

* * *

It was probably irrational and highly unsanitary, but I secured the fluffy, white feather and shoved it into my pocket. I leaned over and kissed the headstone, just as I had done four years ago, and muttered a small prayer with my head rested against the cold marble slab.

"Please have mercy on my father's soul; forgive him of his sins and allow me to see him again in the joy of Eternal Light. Through Christ, our Lord. Amen... please keep him safe for me." I sat up and traced his name once more. "Rest in peace, Dad; you don't need to worry about me anymore."

I turned my head away from the polished stone monument to see that they had backed away to give me a little privacy. As I stood up, I urged them forward, allowing them to pay their respects. Each had left a small, colorful bouquet where I had been sitting and tilted their heads up to send silent prayers towards the cloud-covered heavens. Rosalie was motionless; her mouth trembled with a restrained sob and her skin was taut across her knuckles from the strength of her grip around the delicate green stems. Emmett coaxed her forward, rubbing her arms reassuringly and whispering into her ear. She took a few steps forward before collapsing onto her knees. Rosalie buried her beautiful face into her hands – golden hair spilling to the sides – and let out a whimper. Her body shook with her silent cries.

I was the only one who understood her sniffles and sobs; the others looked confused by her outburst. I waved Emmett off when he stepped forward to comfort his girlfriend, silently telling him that I would handle the situation. I kneeled beside Rose and tentatively reached out for her. I didn't know what was racing through her mind, but she obviously still blamed herself.

"Shh…" I said, quietly, running my fingers through her silken locks. "It's okay, Rosalie."

"No, it's not," she mumbled. "I'm sorry," she hiccupped.

"You have _nothing_ to be sorry about; I already told you that this wasn't your fault," I reminded her. She shook her head.

"It _is_ my fault! You don't understand. Everything about me is just so… it would have been better if I hadn't been born. I was so stubborn and proud and I…" she babbled, looking at me with watery sapphire blue eyes stained red from tears. My brow furrowed in confusion. She was unable to form full, coherent sentences; I didn't have a clue as to what her line of thinking entailed.

"All those 'friends' came and went just like everyone else in my life; I didn't give a shit about them. But, the people that I cared about could barely stand me. I never asked for advice because I couldn't trust anyone to give me the right kind. I never admitted to anyone that I needed help because I was too proud to admit that I couldn't handle everything on my own. I never needed anybody because I had been taking care of myself practically my whole life. The Whitlocks took me in; sheltered me, clothed me and fed me, but the only person I had relied on was me. _I_ was the only one I could trust because everyone in my life always left."

"Rose… I don't…" I said, shaking my head. I couldn't understand how her loneliness was relevant to her guilt.

"And because I had been too stubborn to let anyone in, I didn't have anyone to turn to," she continued over my voice. "I was afraid to get hurt; to be abandoned all over again.

"I ran off to La Push to sort through that bullshit letter. I was confident that I would be able to get through that shitstorm once I had a chance to breathe, and it ended up with your dad pulling me over. He shouldn't have been there; he wasn't supposed to be there. _I_ wasn't supposed to be there. If I had someone that I had trusted, I would have been with that person instead of sitting on a cliff. Don't you see that _everything_ that I am has led up to destroying your family? I'm responsible for your dad being in the wrong place at the wrong time… I may not have been driving the car that hit him, but I had essentially signed his death warrant.

"You should hate me. _I_ hate me. I put you through so much unforgivable shit… I don't know how you can stand to be in the same room as me.

"I had destroyed everything that I had touched: marriages, relationships, friendships, _people_…" she trailed off, shaking her head.

I was left speechless; I had never seen her look so defeated and broken. I wanted to tell her something cliché, like "time heals all wounds," but she's been stewing in her misguided logic for years. How could I convince someone who had believed in that twisted way of thinking for so long? Her thoughts had solidified when there was nobody to contest it; nobody to tell her that she was completely batshit for even thinking it. For years, Rose's guilt and shame had prevented her from opening up to the people who had come to love her. I feared that my words may not be enough to help her through it.

We've led similar lives, but we were on opposite sides of the spectrum. I had been the ridiculed mousy doormat and she was the emotionally heartless but beautifully confident glamazon – a girl who I had thought had everything she wanted. But, when it came down to it, she had problems like the rest of us mere mortals. It wasn't until a month ago that I had found out that she had been deprived of the one thing she had craved, her parents' love. I grew up surrounded with it… even if it was from only one parent. I pity Rosalie; her parents sounded like selfish assholes. Forgive me for speaking ill of the dead, but what kind of mother wallows in her own grief and practically forces her eight-year-old-child to fend for herself? Renee left Charlie, but he hadn't spent his time with a bottle of Jack glued to his hand. Rose's father had left without any contact, even after she had lost her mother; only when _he_ was ready to play "daddy" again, did he track her down. At least Renee had kept in touch by sending me birthday, Christmas and the occasional "thinking of you" cards. She had taken me in when I had nowhere else to go.

I looked back at our friends and saw that they were closer than I had expected. With their mouths hung open and their eyes opened wide, I knew that they had heard the entire conversation. I wasn't the only one who had been shocked into silence.

Em gathered Rose into his arms; she had finally stopped crying, but was still staring vacantly at the grave. She ignored the whispers from her beloved as he led her out of the cemetery. One by one, they trailed out towards the parking lot, leaving me behind to say goodbye.

"I'll visit again, _soon_… I pinky swear."

Despite the heaviness of Rosalie's confession, I left the cemetery feeling lighter, believing that my father was at peace and watching over me.

By the time I got to the parking lot, Rosalie was leaning into Emmett; she was emotionally exhausted and her weary face showed it.

"Where did you want to head next, Bella?" Jasper asked.

"I actually wanted to swing by the station; I doubt you delinquents wouldn want to hang around there for any length of time," I teased. "Why don't you guys go ahead and take Rose home, let her sleep for a little bit. I'll meet up with you guys later for lunch."

"Sounds good," Em nodded.

I said goodbye to all of them before pulling Rose into a hug. "You're not that girl anymore, Rose. Trust me," I whispered. She gave me a slight smile with her sad eyes.

They piled into the Porsche with Alice at the wheel and Edward up in front. Emmett and Jasper sat on either side of Rosalie, who looked like she was starting to get slightly irritated with all their fussing and babying.

***

Other than the slight rusting of the building's metal sign, the Forks police station hadn't changed one bit – not that I had expected it.

Civilian and employee parking was close by the entrance and an extremely small fleet of police cruisers was caged in by a chain link fence. Dad was the only one to bring the cruiser home on a regular basis.

I immediately felt dwarfed when I pulled up next to a familiar lifted, blue Ford F-150. I had always wondered if James needed a stool to get up there; I need one just to peer inside of the window.

Walking up the ramp to the glass door entrance, I snuck a look back to make sure the lights flashed when I locked the car via remote. I scowled when I saw the piece of shit Honda on the other side of the monstrous truck.

_Looks like Lauren is making good on her threat to press charges._

Other than the stiffness and faint bruising of my knuckles, she had no proof that I had given her bruises and/or a broken nose… unless someone came forward and sided with her. _Well, gotta face it sometime._

As soon as I crossed the threshold, I was assaulted by the aroma of coffee and the buzz of conversation. Karen Wright, Forks PD officer with permanent desk duty due to her bum leg and champion baker, spotted me first. She squealed – which was reminiscent of Alice finding out about a Roberto Cavalli sample sale – effectively silencing the flowing conversations. She distractedly plopped her white coffee mug onto a gray file cabinet to limp towards me. They followed her line of sight and caught my shocked face as I watched this slender, slightly gray-haired woman plowing through men and women in uniform and metal desks with her arms stretched wide and a bright smile on her face.

"Oh, my goodness, it's so good to see you!" She squeaked, barely holding in her excitement. She kissed both my cheeks and then my forehead before cutting off my air supply by throwing her arms around my neck and squeezing… tight.

"You've certainly grown into a stunning young woman, Bella," she said when she pulled back to look at me. "Are you alright? You look flushed." Karen immediately brought her hand up to my forehead to check for a fever.

_No worries; it happens all the time when I don't get any air._

"I'm okay, thank you. It's good to see you, too."

"Come, have a seat. I'll get you some brownies; I made them last night." She pulled on my arm, almost taking it out of its socket with her exuberance. She deposited me onto her uncomfortable desk chair and ran off towards the break room. The remaining people had congregated around her desk to greet me before heading out to resume their day. The station was quiet after most of them had left to return to patrolling.

Karen returned a short while later with a cup of cold milk and a slice of her famous brownies. Our small talk was interrupted by a nasally babyish voice that was hard on the ears.

"What are you like stalking me now?" I fought the urge to laugh when I saw her sour face. Huge goggle-like sunglasses were pushed up and tangled within her ratty brown hair; presumably to hide her grotesque face… er… bruises.

"Yeah… because I live my life to follow around someone as obnoxious as you. Get over yourself." I rolled my eyes in disgust when I took a closer look at the train wreck also known as Lauren.

I could clearly see her red and black zebra print bra underneath her white _burnout_ baby tee; she didn't even have the decency to shield the public from her whorish tendencies. A four inch gap from between the hem of her shirt and the waist of her denim mini skirt brought attention to her anorexic-looking abs and tacky belly button bling. On her feet were hideous knock-off Ugg boots, which, by the way, were the only things appropriate for the forty-degree-weather outside. I had to remind myself that skanks don't get cold.

"You are sooo going down, bitch. You're going to pay for laying a hand on me, fucker," she sneered.

"Now, Miss Mallory, there's no need for vulgar language. I'm sure whatever you're referring to was an accident." Karen chastised, trying to diffuse the situation.

"Oh, shut the hell up, you old hag. Shouldn't you be napping or picking out burial plots or whatever it is that you old people do?"

"Hey! Don't talk to her like that!" I yelled, standing up to get in her face. "What the hell is wrong with you?! From what I can remember, your parents are some nice people. How the fuck did they end up with a socially defective daughter like you?!" I spat. I clenched my fists, preparing to bash her face in.

_The world wouldn't miss this POS, right?_

The slight motion must have tipped Karen off to my thoughts because she shot out of her chair and gripped my arms.

Lauren, on the other hand, took my confinement as an opportunity to get in a cheap shot. I vaguely heard a door open as Lauren pulled her open palm back to slap me across the face.

_She had a chance to do some real damage and she settles for a bitch slap… right…_

Self-preservation won out and I ducked out of the way. Unfortunately, my basic instinct to protect myself had caused me to forget that Karen was standing directly behind me. The slap reverberated throughout the empty station. Karen loosened her hold on me to bring a hand up to her enflamed face.

"Lauren, you are under arrest for battery of a police officer!" We swung our heads towards the voice… James. His dirty blonde hair that had been shaggy the last time I saw him was closely cropped to his head and his youthful face looked ten years older. He looked absolutely drained.

"But, bu- but, Chief! I didn't mean to hit _her_!" Lauren wailed.

James proceeded to Mirandize her.

"You have the right to remain silent. Everything you say can and will be held against you in a court of law," he said calmly as he added a new accessory to her outfit: a pair of silver bracelets. Smirk.

"I was aiming for Bella!" She whined.

"And you still would have been arrested for battery," James pointed out.

"But, she hit me first!"

"We were just sitting here Chief, Bella didn't touch her," Karen informed him.

I felt a smug, superior look come across my face as I stared her down. "What the hell are you looking at you bitch?! I'll smack that smirk right off your face, just you wait," she seethed, struggling against her metal restraints.

"Didn't I say that you had the right to remain silent? Don't make me add assault to your arrest," James warned. She snapped her mouth closed and glared at me.

_A hooker in cuffs… how appropriate…_

"You have the right to an attorney. If you cannot afford an attorney, one will be appointed to you. Do you understand these rights as I have read them to you?"

"If I say no, does that mean you can't arrest me?" She asked hopefully.

"Just… keep your mouth shut until you can call your lawyer or something," he snapped.

"But, I can't go to jail! Come on!" Lauren pleaded.

"If you left me go, you'll have my undying gratitude – I'm really good with my hands," she purred. Her attempt at sultry sounded like a sixty-year-old woman who had spent most of her life smoking two packs per day. James groaned and Lauren perked up, thinking that she was winning him over with the idea.

"Just to let you know, Lauren, I'm amending your arrest to include bribery. You're digging your own grave; I advise that you shut up."

"But, m- my parents will be so infuriated!" She cried as James began to walk her towards the holding cells. _Infuriated_; big word coming from an idiot – go figure. Words like "mad" and "angry" seemed more appropriate for her pea-sized brain. It must be her Word of the Day calendar hard at work.

"Are you alright, Karen?"

"I'm a little stunned, but yeah, I'm fine… she hits like a girl," she chuckled.

"I think that she may have been dropped on her head as a child. She's certifiable if she thought that she could hit someone, a cop no less, inside of a freaking police station and get away with it... crazy or extremely stupid."

"A combination of both, actually… It wasn't all that bad though. It was worth it to see her in cuffs. The Chief's been dying to put her behind bars… if you haven't noticed – she's pretty rude," she whispered conspiratorially. I tried not to wince when she mentioned "the Chief," but I couldn't help it. It was depressing to know that my father had been replaced.

"Really?!" I gasped, my hand fluttering to my chest in mock surprise.

After James had made sure that Karen was okay, she went back to her paperwork and I turned my attention to the chief.

"Hi!" I smiled.

"Hey, Tinker Bell," he smiled back at me before engulfing me in a warm hug. "How've you been?"

"I've been well, thank you. How 'bout you? You look pretty tired there."

"I'm fine; Anna's pregnant and keeps me up all night with her weird food cravings. Last night she made me get pickles and cookie dough ice cream; had to drive all the way to Port Angeles to find a store that was open at three in the morning."

"Um, gross and congratulations! I know you guys have been trying for a long time."

"Yeah, she's our little miracle baby. Well, why don't we step into my office to catch up?"

"Police Chief James Fitzgerald…" I read the plaque on the door to the office that once belonged to my father. "It has a nice ring to it."

"Yeah," he sighed. "But, I wish that I had gotten the job some other way," he told me sadly, shutting the door behind me. The office was the same; from the faux-wood paneled walls to the wooden desk that I had cracked my head on once when I was a little girl to the dark spot on the carpet where I had knocked over Dad's coffee. The only thing that had changed were the pictures and various framed awards.

"Me, too," I confessed as tried to get as comfortable as I could in a totally uncomfortable chair. I thought that my chair was limited to interrogation rooms – the kinds that were only reserved for suspects. James settled onto his executive, padded leather seat, complete with reclining action.

"Well, Bells, I hate to ask, but… did you have anything to do with the state of Lauren Mallory's face?" He raised an eyebrow at me.

"Uh… I'm pretty sure that her face has more to do with genetics… and plastic surgery." We both fought smiles, trying hard to be serious.

"You know what I mean."

"Do you have any proof?"

"No…" he drew out. "Old man Pete said he was dozing off, so he hadn't seen anything. Larry and Jessica hadn't corroborated Lauren's story either." That wasn't true; Jessica had an ice pack for my hand as soon as we had entered the diner.

"Then, no, I didn't have anything to do with the state of Mallory's face." My voice didn't waver, but my face was one fire from lying. However, I didn't have much to worry about; Lauren didn't have any witnesses on her side and it was that whorebag's presumably shady record over my squeaky clean one.

"May I see you hand please?" I blanched and quickly shoved my left one in his face.

"The other one, Miss Swan." He examined my hand as I held it shakily in the air.

"It looks like you hit something pretty hard," he commented. _Oh crap._

"Uh… Em's built like a brick wall?" The statement came out as a question and I hoped like fuck he didn't contest it. He smirked.

"Well, it looks like Lauren's case against you doesn't have a leg to stand on. I still have to talk to Rosalie, Jasper and the Cullen siblings, but I'm guessing that they hadn't seen anything either."

_Damn straight._

After letting out a relieved breath, we talked about our lives while we ignored the other huge elephant in the room. Neither one of us wanted to broach the subject that had personally affected us. James had been Dad's right hand man. If it hadn't been for James and Anna's trips back east for holidays with relatives, I was sure that their holidays would have been spent with us on the res.

James's topics of conversation had stuck to dinners and parties on La Push and his life at home, telling me horror stories about Anna's pregnancy. Conversation had stalled after he informed me of Billy Black's car accident that had taken away his ability to walk. Better his legs, than his life. To switch topics, he had asked me about my life in Phoenix. I left out my one week stint in the hospital for attempted suicide, along with the therapy sessions. I wanted to focus on the good times with friends and family.

I was finishing up an embarrassing story that included a sexed up outfit to catch a certain guy's eye and ended up with the painted on pants split down the middle when I noticed the time; it was twenty after three. Time had completely run away from me and now I was running late to meet up with them for lunch.

I excused myself to place a call and walked outside.

"Hello?"

"Oh, my God, I'm so sorry! I didn't even realize the time. Have you eaten yet? We could go out, just let me say goodbye to James."

"It's alright, Bella," Edward chuckled. "We ordered pizza. We had a hunch that you'd want to stay a bit longer. Take your time; we're just gonna hang around the house. Alice wants to go to the Wildfire Grill for dinner, though."

"Oh. Uh, okay. I'll be back by four or five. If not, call me. I'll probably be making fun of Lauren in her new home behind metal bars."

"Lauren's in jail? What happened?"

"See you later, Edward."

"Come on, Bella. You can't just leave me hanging like that!"

"I'll tell you about it later, bye!" He groaned and muttered a sulky "fine, bye."

I walked inside and headed straight for the restroom; all that water and juice while speaking with James had done a number on my bladder. After relieving myself, I passed by a small conference-like room on the way back to the Chief's office. I would have passed the whole thing up altogether, but a picture of my dad caught my eye. Thinking that it was an in memoriam board, I sauntered in, not realizing that I had entered a restricted area.

I kept my eye trained on Dad's picture, a copy of the one sitting on my mantle in Seattle. I gasped in horror as my eyes trailed downward towards the other pictures. I had watched enough cop shows to know that this board was covered in crime scene photos. Shattered glass, metal wreckages, blood, tire marks…

I had to brace myself against the sturdy oval table when I saw the mangled heap that was once Dad's police cruiser. The windows had been blown out and the red and blue lights had been completely smashed. The car was significantly flattened and from the looks of it, they had to use the Jaws of Life to cut it open. It had been a miracle that Dad had survived long enough to make it to the hospital.

I almost lost the entire contents of my stomach when I saw photographs of a woman slumped over the steering wheel. Parts of her long, red hair had been caked with blood. The last photo that I had set my eyes on was the same woman on an stretcher, surrounded by a black body bag. There was no doubt in my mind that this was the driver who had torn my life apart.

"Bella…" James sighed. "You shouldn't be in here."

"What is all of this? Why do you have these pictures up?" I asked, gesturing to the corkboard

"Come on; let's go back to my office."

"No, I'm not going anywhere until you tell me what the hell all of this means."

"Bella, please, I can't discuss open cases with you, cold or not," James pleaded, tugging on my arm.

"Open cases? What the fuck?! The killer is right there in the fucking body bag! Case fucking closed!"

"No… she wasn't the driver," he informed me, finally giving in to my questions.

"What the hell are you talking about? You told me that the person who had killed Dad was dead; why did you lie to me?!" I was furious. Even though I thought that she had gotten off way too easy by dying, I still had the satisfaction knowing that the murderer paid with her life and was possibly rotting in hell. Now he's telling me that the culprit was someone else; someone who was possibly walking free and enjoying life at this very moment while my dad's body is six feet under?! Un. Fucking. Fair!

"I'm sorry; I had jumped to conclusions. It was stupid of me to tell you that. We were so concerned over Charlie – flustered over the whole situation; we hadn't noticed the small amounts of blood on the passenger side door and seat. I had left the scene to find you as soon as the ambulance was on its way to the hospital.

"We collect evidence in cases involving a death, no matter the cause. John had called me while we were at the hospital to tell me that there was possibly another person in that car. We had to wait for DNA analysis, but they typed her blood; AB negative was found on the passenger's side – it belonged to her. Type O positive was found on the left side on the seatbelt, airbag and smeared on the door handle. After the analysis came through we found that the blood belonged to a male. There weren't any unique markers of any kind; he was a healthy and extremely intoxicated red-blooded male. We also came across a few different sets of prints other than hers –"

"What's her name?" As much as I loathed admitting it, she was a victim also. He hesitated a moment before telling me 'Victoria.'

"We ran the prints through AFIS and the blood sample through CODIS, but we didn't get any hits. I tried to get into touch with you, but your mother and I didn't think that it was a good idea… at least, not until we caught the perp."

"Renee knew about this and she didn't think to tell me? Not even four years after the fact?" I had a feeling that there would be a verbal smackdown very soon; I hope that Dr. Murphy will be available to referee. There was _no_ justice for Charlie and she had let me believe in a lie. I felt betrayed… what else had she kept from me?

"Don't police cars have those cameras installed? Why didn't you send dogs out to… I don't know... get a trail on the guy? Maybe it was a friend of hers? Did you talk to her friends and family to find out who she was with?" Of course they had, I just had to make sure they covered all the bases.

"Unfortunately, cameras weren't in the budget; Charlie didn't know how he could have justified that expense, you know this being Forks and all. The worst thing we had seen was graffiti.

"The rain had washed away all traces of the perp before we even knew we were looking for him. Sam and Emily were the first ones there – they had called it in – but they hadn't seen nor heard anyone run off. Chances are he ran into the woods. We combed the surrounding area for any clues, but the underbrush had been too dense and I know of at least a dozen people who had trampled on nature out there.

"Uh, I think that I should stop there," he said. I was beginning to turn a little green; I had to throw up.

"I – I need to get out of here. I have to think. I…" Pushing past James, I ran towards his office to grab my purse.

Why does everyone else's screwed up life have to interfere with my own? Didn't the Swan family have enough shit to deal with? Was this the universe's way of knocking the fuck out of me when I finally felt better about this situation?

"Bella, you can't drive out there like this; you're distracted." He followed me into his office.

"No, I'm not. Please. I'll be careful. Just give me some time. Please don't follow me."

I slammed the door shut on my Audi and peeled out of the parking lot after I had run past a confused-looking Karen.

I drove around for a couple hours, occasionally passing patrol cars. I tensed up when I saw the familiar black and white colors, but relaxed when they hadn't followed me or attempted to pull me over. I knew where I wanted to go, yet I couldn't find it in myself to drive to that location.

Night has finally fallen and I was sitting in my car, thinking and listening to the rain giving the earth a beating. I was so tired of thinking. I was so tired of the ups and downs I've had since I moved back to Washington. I just wanted to go to sleep and wake up next year. I didn't want to deal with this shit right now.

The glow from the street lamps couldn't reach where my car had been sitting and the color blended in with the darkness, making it hard to pinpoint my exact location. My cell phone had been chiming and ringing every two minutes for the past hour; I turned it off hoping appease my annoyance with sound. Plus, crushing my BlackBerry because it wouldn't shut the hell up would only guarantee a new flare of anger and irritation. I knew that everyone was worried about me; it was close to seven in the evening and they had no clue where I was. But, I couldn't find it in myself to care.

Right now, I wanted to figure out who the hell could walk away from something as serious as two lives hanging in the balance? Why was his life so special that it had been saved? Did he not know or care that the victims had families and friends to miss them? Why was he free to walk this earth when he had taken two lives? Was he happy and frolicking in the fucking sun with a big, fat fucking grin on his face, knowing that he had gotten away with murder? _When_ they catch him, I will be hoping that they give him the needle, or better yet: death by hanging. That asshole deserves absolutely no compassion.

My anger mounted and I began hitting my steering wheel, hearing it creak under pressure as I attempted to choke the life out of it. Tears of frustration and anger fell unchecked down my face. The peace that I had felt earlier had evaporated and was replaced with animosity, rage, and fury. There was absolutely nothing that I could do.

There was one thing that I was sure of, the police better find him before I do because I will be his judge, jury and executioner.

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**  
^I was half asleep when I proofread it, so don't be surprised when I repost it due to conflicting ideas with other chapters and/or horrible grammar.**  
**^Don't be too harsh on Bella. Anyone would want to hurt someone for taking a loved one away.**  
**^Yes, Mallory's an idiot. I cringe in the knowledge that she came from my imagination.**  
**^I have zero clue about police protocol, so if there are any errors please let me know.**  
**^Forks PD is small-town, clueless and not equipped to deal with major crimes (like a double homicide or vehicular manslaughter... whatever you want to call it).**

**^^Outtake for a review? It's a third person POV of the collision. If you decide not to review, don't worry because I will be posting it at the END of the story. The mini chapter won't fit in a reply, so I will be sending you a link.**

**..Leave me lots of LOVE..**

**Thanks for reading!**


	14. Chapter 14

**Holy crap! Over a month with no updates? Yeah, I know I suck. This story is kinda depressing at times, so I needed a break from all the fake drama I created.**

**Thank you for reading, reviewing, alerting and those of you who had put this story [and me] on their faves list. You keep me writing... even though it looks like I'm slacking off sometimes.**

**.._Twilight_ is not mine... obviously..**

**Happy reading!**

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When angry, count to four. When very angry, swear.  
- Mark Twain

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"Edward, park your ass in a seat or something; you're making me dizzy with all your pacing!" Rosalie hissed, simultaneously rubbing her forehead and giving me the stink eye.

"Close your eyes, then! Better yet, leave the room, no one's stopping you," I snapped, gripping my hair in frustration.

"You're not the only one who's worried about her, you know." Her tone was considerably softer; my glare lessened.

"I know," I sighed. "I'm sorry… it's just that – Any news?" I asked my mother as she walked into the living room, cell phone in hand; she had just finished speaking with Dad. While most of the family had set out to search for her, I had been ordered to stay at the house and "protect" the worried twosome, Mom and Rose, from doing anything impulsive. I think that it had more to do with nobody wanting to get stuck in the car with my ass; I had been anxious and asshole-y ever since our calls went straight to voicemail. I flinched at the thought of her cell phone being destroyed in an accident as the cause.

"The Chief said that she left around four, but they were keeping an eye on her because she was upset. Unfortunately, they lost track of her over two hours ago. They put out an APB, though. It raises the chances of her being found."

_Unbelievable_… their inability to locate Bella's sixty-thousand-dollar Audi, one that will never come close to blending in with the rest of the cars in Forks or even Clallam County, doesn't exactly instill confidence with the department. Fuck, doesn't her car have LoJack or some other GPS tracking device? I don't understand why they just hadn't detained her in one of the holding cells.

My hope deflated as I dropped onto the couch cushion next to Mom. I knew that this would be a difficult weekend for her because of the nature of the trip. It hadn't started off great, but I thought that Bella had been doing better. We had been laughing and joking around this morning and, despite the tears, she looked serene as we left the church cemetery. What changed? Did a confrontation with Lauren set her off? I swear on everything that is holy, if Lauren hurt Bella in any way, she would live to regret it.

_I'm not sure how to go about doing that, but I'm sure I'll think of something._

Maybe everything that had happened was just too much for her to handle; a sensory and emotional overload.

It had been hard on me when we had arrived at Forks Middle School – returning to the scene of our crimes and all… being reminded that we were such fucking idiots. Seriously, if I saw my eleven-year-old self right now, I'd beat the shit out of him and shake him senseless for not having the backbone to go against the crowd.

But, whatever I had been feeling surely must have paled in comparison to what Bella felt. She remembered how she had been humiliated; we remembered how we had done the humiliating. She had roamed the empty halls, arm in arm with Alice, with anguish clearly written on her face. The puke green walls of Forks Middle School, along with the faded peach ones at Forks High, would always be a reminder of our shameful behavior and betrayal.

An onslaught of emotions flitted across her features – sadness, anger, defeat – when we had reached the cafeteria; she had settled on a vacant expression. Her shoulders had slumped forward as she sat at her old isolated table, staring off into oblivion. We had no idea what to do when she had rejected Alice's comfort, so like the dumbasses that we were, we had stood off to the side to let her sort it out on her own. Everyone had looked as uncomfortable as they felt because it had not been going too well.

We had the same teachers, but our class schedules had been different – the only place that held all the students at one time was the cafeteria. That room was a prime location for our fuckery since we had a larger audience and a low risk of getting caught. The students had essentially been left alone as school employees had usually stayed in the staff lounge on the opposite side of campus or left the school altogether for lunch. Our "supervisors" for the lunch period included the clueless and uncaring kitchen staff and Steve the Security Guard – if you can even call him that; the only thing he had ever secured was his flask filled with Johnnie Walker. He had spent most of his days sauced or sleeping it off.

I had intently watched Bella's blank face as it occasionally morphed as if she was in pain. My heart had clenched with guilt and regret when I realized that she was probably reliving some of the worst memories in her head. The only time Bella had ever smiled after Alice's brush off was when she had received a Valentine card from a "secret admirer." After that incident, she had closed herself off and attempted to fade into the background, only lashing out when it got too much for her to keep inside.

Rosalie had surprised everyone by being the first to step forward. Bella hadn't officially used the word "forgiven" with us yet, but we were in consensus with her decision because who the hell would forgive a traitor? We just wanted to apologize to her and have her actually process what we had to say. We've all conveyed our apologies before, but nothing like the way it had happened at the middle school. We were making a little progress, but I admit that we still had a long way to go to completely earn her trust.

Earlier today at the cemetery, watching as she had begun to break down left me feeling inept... less than a man because of my inability to comfort her. She had started to plead with and yell at the headstone as if Charlie could hear her; she had been so desperate for answers. My emotions had won out and gravity pulled salty tears down my face. I had hugged her hard trying to keep her from falling apart, but nothing had worked. Steady streams fell down her face, soaking my jacket. It hadn't been until she watched a feather float down towards her from a nearby tree that her whimpering and wailing had completely stopped. I had been glad that she had stopped crying, but I was jealous of an inanimate object; that insignificant feather had consoled her more than I had been able to.

That instance had been the third time I that had seen her completely breakdown. The first had been at the hospital, just seconds after being told that Chief Swan hadn't made it through surgery. The second time had been in that very cemetery a few hours following the funeral. Alice, being the drama queen that she was, used to cry all the time, but it had never gotten easier to watch girls have a meltdown – especially if that girl was Bella. She should have lived a charmed life, but instead, destiny had dealt her one fucked up hand and my involvement in her misery hadn't made things any easier.

_Why did I have to be such a little shit?_

"Don't worry, Edward, we'll find her. Your dad, brother, sister and Jasper are out looking… half of the police force is out there," Mom told me, attempting to soothe my anxiousness by carding her fingers through my unruly hair.

"Half the force?" I asked "Oh, you mean all four of them?" I scoffed. "Forks may be small, but she could be anywhere by now. Why did she have to choose this day to disappear?" I groaned. It had been a long while since Forks had seen a storm like this.

I heard big, fat raindrops beat against the glass windows as lightening struck in the distance with the boom of thunder every few minutes. I hoped that she was safe and waiting out the raging storm somewhere dry; there was no way I was losing her again. I literally felt my hair fall out with my soaring stress levels.

"Mom, I'm taking your car."

"Edward, just chill the fuck out!" Rosalie commanded. I chose to ignore her.

"Rose, language. Edward, it isn't safe out there! There are a lot people out there looking… we _will_ find her, I can feel it."

"Well, I can't just sit around and hope that he car hadn't flipped over! I'm going insane here, I have to do _something_! I'll be careful, I promise." I kissed my mother on the cheek and slipped into the garage to climb into her Q7.

Visibility was shit and it didn't help the situation that the storm had knocked out the power. It left the streets in an unsettling, eerie darkness. To make matters worse, the wind had picked up and the wipers could barely keep up with clearing the windshield of debris and water.

I shivered, thinking that there could be some knife-wielding maniac out there pretending to help Bella out with a flat tire. I blame my state of mind on Jasper; he was the one who had decided that we needed to watch horror movies in the spirit of the Halloween month. Ass.

Driving slowly with my high beams on, I visited the obvious places (the church cemetery, her old home on Pine Rd., schools, the diner and parks), believing that she had been there all along and they just hadn't spotted her. No such luck.

After combing all of the streets that Forks had to offer – residential as well as the main ones – I started the drive towards La Push, thinking (and hoping) that she had gone to the Blacks' or Clearwaters' for shelter; it was possible that they had refrained from calling anyone if she had asked them to.

_God, if she's on the reservation, please let her be inside of a house and not stupidly sitting on the beach – if lightening doesn't kill her, pneumonia and hypothermia will. _

My tension spiked at the image of Bella lying in a hospital bed with wires hooked up to her body, fighting for her life. I gripped the wheel harder and drove a little faster with my heart beating a mile a minute.

As lightening flashed, something shiny in my peripheral vision caught my attention. Being the stupid, unthinking fucker that I was, I slammed on my brakes when I realized that the something shiny was actually the Audi badge on Bella's grille. Thank fuck for the Michelin tires on Mom's SUV, I would have been fucked otherwise. Instead of hydroplaning and losing control of a six ton vehicle, the puddles parted like the Red Sea and allowed me safe passage.

I cautiously backed up and parked as close as I could near Bella's car without getting stuck in the mud. The sleek onyx Audi was nestled perfectly between several trees. It was sheltered from most of the rain beneath a dense, dark green canopy of leaves; it could have been easily overlooked and I was fortunate enough to spot it.

My _brilliant _plan of "do now, think later" had left me extremely unprepared – no flashlight, umbrella, sweater, jacket or raincoat; just a black t-shirt, jeans and a pair of permeable Vans.

_Fuck it; a little water never hurt anyone._

Taking care not to slip, I made a mad dash through the freezing wet weather towards the ebony car; I was soaked from head to toe by the time I reached the driver's side. The darkness of the environment and even darker tint made it difficult to see inside.

After another flash of lightening, I learned that Bella was lying in the reclined driver's seat. The split second flash was long enough for me to see that her mouth was set in a frown and the crease between her brows was prominent; she did not look happy… but as least she was safe.

"Bella!" I yelled, resorting to banging on the window when my knocks went unanswered. Her eyes flew open as she ripped the blue earbuds from her head and turned her iPod off. Forget unhappy, she looked downright furious as she unlocked the car. I made my way around the front end, towards the passenger's side.

"What?!" She asked sharply as soon as I opened the door. I recoiled from her harsh tone, but said nothing in return and climbed into the car. I wasn't too worried about tracking mud into the pristine interior; the rubber mats could be easily cleaned. The interior lights that had resulted from an open door allowed me to see that the tears trapped between her thick lashes glittered like jewels.

"What are you doing here, Edward?"

"I c-ca-came to f-f-find you," I stuttered. I wasn't nervous in her angry presence, I was freezing. I couldn't stop the teeth-chattering shiver from ripping through my body; her hard eyes softened as her hand moved to turn the ignition. After switching on the interior lights, she directed all the vents towards me and I relished in the heat blasting from them.

"Obviously," she muttered, turning her body towards the back seats. "Take your shirt off."

"I'm sorry, what?" I couldn't help but smirk. Will she be going topless as well?

"Your shirt is wet, Edward; you're gonna get sick." She rolled her eyes at me and threw a white zip-up hoodie in my face.

I began to peel the wet fabric off of my body and watched as Bella's brown eyes darkened. I preened under her attention and may or may not have intentionally flexed to give her a private viewing of my gun show; her mouth fell slightly open at the action. She snapped herself out of the daze and turned away with a blush on her cheeks as soon as I had cleared my throat. I replaced my soaked shirt with Bella's UW jacket and took a big whiff; it smelled like her.

_I hope she doesn't want it back; I don't plan on returning it._

"Are you okay?" I asked, adjusting the snug-fitting sleeves.

"Oh, I'm fucking awesome. Can't you tell?" She said sarcastically, giving me a too-bright fake smile.

"Bella, what happened? Talk to me… please?" I added. She remained silent as her lips pressed into a thin line. Staring out of the windshield, her hands wrapped around the steering wheel and I heard it creak under pressure. I shifted in my seat like a little boy awaiting a scolding for playing football in the house. The silence amplified the tiniest noises.

"My dad was a good man, right?" She asked, lowly. I answered immediately and affirmatively, eager to agree with her to make her happy.

"Why is it that good people suffer, while the bad ones get away with inflicting it?" She asked, turning her head to look at me.

"I… don't know." I shrugged. I couldn't give her an answer without getting philosophical or religious; instinct told me that she wasn't in the mood for a lecture, so I wisely kept my comments to myself.

"There's a telephone pole on the left, a few yards away from us… that's where Victoria's car was totaled."

"Who's that?" She ignored my question.

"About thirty feet to the right was where my dad's cruiser was found." Her voice took on a hollow tone.

_Oh shit._

It hadn't even registered in my mind that I had passed through here. For weeks following the accident, the citizens of Forks had turned the intersection into a shrine, leaving flowers, laminated photos and other tokens of remembrance and respect. They had even erected a large silver cross to commemorate Chief Swan's life and death. The cross also stood as a reminder to us all about the damage drunk driving could inflict onto an individual as well as a town.

"Isn't it ironic that the day that I had decided that I was finally ready to move forward and start forgiving is the same day that I'm seriously plotting something as final as death?" She said, laughing without humor and facing forward.

"The person who actually drove the car was a guy and he simply walked away from it. He killed two people and didn't have to answer for his crimes. Lucky bastard..."

"Um, yeah, I remember hearing about that," I told her sheepishly.

"How is it that everyone but me knew about that vital piece of information? Why didn't _you_ tell me?" Her eyes narrowed, accusingly.

"I'm… I'm sorry. I thought that you knew."

She stared at me, her darks eyes bored into mine. After taking a few deep cleansing breaths, assumingly to get her emotions under control, she answered me. "It's fine… sorry. The only people who were obligated to share that with me were the ones who were hell bent on keeping it a secret. According to James, he and Renee didn't think that it was a good idea to tell me. Well, no, that's not entirely true. They were gonna let me in on the secret after they make an arrest… whenever that will be."

I understood their reasons for deception, Bella had been in a fragile state and there was no telling what would have happened if she had found out. However, I also thought that they should have told her when she was mentally stable enough to process the information.

"You know, I've never had the urge to kill someone before in my life. It scared me because I couldn't even bring myself to _wish_ death on anyone at school. Part of me is hoping that he had already died some horrible, painful death… maybe somewhere along the lines of being burned alive or something equally torturous.

"But, if I'm honest with myself, I'm really hoping that he is alive and kicking because I intend on finding that son of a bitch if it's the last thing I do. When I do find him, I won't hesitate to pull the trigger and have that satisfaction of watching the life extinguish from his eyes. A life for a life; it's only fair, right?" She asked, looking back at me for confirmation. Cool and detached, she spoke of taking someone's life like she was discussing the weather – like it was no big deal. To be honest, she was scaring the shit out of me.

"Bella, don't… don't say things like that!" I said, lightly gripping her chin when she began to turn away. She rolled her eyes at me. "I lost you once because of _my_ stupidity; I won't lose you again because of _yours_. Even if you manage to get away with it, you're not some cold-blooded killer. Something like that will consume you… it will rip you apart until there's nothing left but guilt."

"Well, what the hell am I supposed to do, sit back and let it slide?!" She shouted, shoving my arm away. The placid façade was slipping and her ire was bubbling beneath the surface.

"No, you let the police do their jobs," I ordered in the firmest voice I could muster.

"Their jobs?!" She yelled; her face a few inches from mine.

_Perhaps that wasn't the best thing to say._

"If they had done their jobs in the first place, they wouldn't have let it turn into a cold case, Edward! Fucking incompetent assholes! They have no leads… four years of work and they have nothing to show for it! How the _fuck_ could they let this guy get away with killing one of their own?!" Her eyes were on fire and her mouth was set in an angry scowl. She looked like she was ready to spit acid and claw through steel. I was slightly afraid of her in that instant, but that hadn't stopped my mouth from running.

"Well, how are _you_ gonna find him when the police couldn't, huh?! You don't even know where to start looking! You don't have a legal standpoint to request those files. They won't let you look at the reports or notes they have on the case just because you say 'pretty please' and bat your eyelashes. And the fact that you're Charlie's daughter makes them even more reluctant to let you nose around through their records of an open case.

"For all you know, he could be leisurely lying on a beach halfway around the world or a junkie on the streets of Seattle. What are you gonna do, scour the world?! At least you can cut the suspect pool down to four _billion_; you're not looking for a woman. Then you could probably cut it down to two billion, since you're looking for _adult_ males. As a matter of fact, you can cross four more names off of that list: Edward, Carlisle, Emmett and Jasper. That leaves you with one-billion, nine-"

"I just… I can't sit back and do nothing. Am I supposed to twiddle my thumbs like a dumbass and pretend that the justice system hadn't screwed up? They could have started the manhunt hours earlier if they had just noticed the fucking details!"

"Have you listened to anything I've said?! You're not trained for that shit! What could you do that the police hadn't already tried? Don't you think that they've exhausted every lead? I was here for the aftermath, Bella; they were determined to close this case! Did you think that they'd let it go so easily? There's no use in harassing and bad mouthing the department over things they can't change!"

"I don't know, okay! I don't fucking know! I… I…" Her breath was shallow and her body began to tremble. "I need to do something… I feel… useless."

"Bella, Bella, shh… take deep breaths," I told her while rubbing circles along the length of her back. Her body fell forward on the steering wheel. "Relax. I'm sorry, I shouldn't have yelled at you." The muscles in her back were tense as she struggled to breathe properly.

"Why is Lauren in jail?" I asked a few minutes later in an attempt to distract her.

"What?" Bella asked, breathless.

"Lauren. You told me that she was behind bars."

"She slapped a cop," she wheezed.

"What?" I asked, amused.

"She slapped Karen across the face." She paused to take a deep breath. "Then she tried to bribe James with sexual favors in exchange for her release."

I barked out a laugh and shook my head in disbelief. "What do you think they'll do to her?" I asked.

"I don't know."

"Maybe she'll end up being someone's bitch. She'll probably turn her stint in jail as exploration into lesbianism." I mused.

"That sounds like a logical possibility," she laughed.

"How are you feeling? Better?"

"A little," she nodded. "Thanks."

"I'm sorry, I really didn't mean to yell at you and keep piling that shit on. In case you haven't noticed, you're kind of stubborn."

"Yeah, I got it from my dad. And don't worry about it, I needed to hear that. I _know_ that it would be close to impossible for me to find this guy on my own, Edward – I'm not stupid. But, what would you do if it had been Carlisle? Sit around and wait for justice or do your best to seek it out?"

"I honestly don't know, Bells." I reached over the center console and pulled her into a hug. "But, I'm here for you every step of the way."

"Thank you," she sniffled. We fell into a comfortable silence, her face buried into the crook of my neck. The heat from her body warmed me better than the car vents ever could.

The sound of my phone cut through the quiet ambiance in the two-door coupe, resulting in my grumbled profanity and flushed cheeks. Bella tried her best to hold in her laughter as I fumbled for my phone, hoping to muzzle the blaring ringtone.

"Alice!" I hissed. I don't know how she did it, but she had managed guess the last three passwords, thus unlocking it and changing her special ringtone to "Dancing Queen."

"Is that Bella? I hear someone laughing."

"Well, hello to you, too, Sister."

"Yeah… whatever… hi, are you with Bella or not?" Her voice was dripping with worry and irritation.

"Yeah, we'll be back soon," I told her, putting her on speaker.

"Oh, thank God! Where are you guys, anyway?"

"In her car…"

"Don't get cute, smart ass," she snapped. "Now get back here, so I can kick her ass for giving me a heart attack."

"Well, that's not much incentive for me to go back, Alice," Bella teased.

"Bella!" She screeched. "Are you okay? What happened? Do you have any idea how worried I've been? The biggest storm of the year and you practically fall off the face of the planet! We've searched for you everywhere, not knowing if you were hurt or needed help or if you were still around Forks," she sobbed. "I know that you don't trust us one-hundred percent, but I thought you knew that I'm here for you… we're all here for you. You don't have to go through any of this by yourself."

"I'm sorry, Alice, I just really needed to get away for a while and think," Bella's voice was thick with guilt and tears.

"It's okay. Just, please, get back here ASAP."

We decided to leave Bella's car on the side of the road and come back for it in the morning; if it happened to get stuck in the mud, I'd rather it be dreary daylight hours and not in the middle of a stormy night.

"Bella, promise me that you'll let it go." She cocked a perfectly shaped eyebrow in my direction.

"Okay, well, I didn't mean let it go, but don't go looking for trouble."

"Bella…" I warned when she didn't respond.

"I know that I'm supposed to be working on my trust issues and all that bull, but why should I promise you anything? What do I owe to you?" The questions were neither malicious nor condescending, she was purely curious.

"Uh, nothing, I guess," I mumbled. "I'm just looking out for you. You're gonna get hurt if you pursue this thing. Whether it's physical or emotional – I don't know – but I don't want to see you in pain. I want you to be happy, not agonizing over that shit."

"I appreciate your concern, Edward, but I'm going to be obsessing about it whether I seek him out or not."

"Just please promise me that you won't do anything stupid."

"Fine, I promise that I won't do anything stupid… by your standards."

"Bella…"

"What? That's as close as we are gonna get on that subject. Case closed. Take it or leave it." With that she hopped out of the SUV and ran into the house after ridding herself of her shoes.

Removing my ruined, muddied Vans on the porch, I walked through the front door a minute after Bella to find my mother smoothing out her hair and quietly scolding her for pulling a disappearing act. Since the power was still knocked out, the room was bathed in the soft glow of candlelight and everyone was armed with flashlights and lanterns.

After had Bella apologized for running out on us and excused herself to change into dry clothes, I advised my family and friends not to broach the topic of Bella's sudden but temporary disappearance. Ali and Rose trailed after her while Mom reheated the lasagna and garlic bread in the minimal light.

_Maybe I should call Alice down here, so Mom can demonstrate how it's done._

I grabbed an LED lantern that we had used for camping after Mom had given me a few pointers in the kitchen that I plan to use in the near future. I ran upstairs to change out of my wet jeans and hide Bella's jacket at the bottom of my luggage. I took the sweater off and hid it from plain sight in case Bella came out of her room and asked for it back. As I neared the third floor, giggling from the guest room piqued my interest. I had always wondered what went on and what was said when girl talk was uninhibited by a male presence.

"Fine, I admit it! I'm… physically attracted to him. But, come on… he's way out of my league." Hmm… is it too much to hope that Bella was talking about me? And if anything, Bella was and still is way too good for me.

"Bella, he would have to be deaf, dumb and blind not to be attracted to you," Rosalie stated. Deaf, dumb and blind; I'd still want her.

"She's right, Bells. Plus, _he_ approached _you_ remember? He singled you out and offered his _services_." Now, I'm confused because I did no such thing. Who offered what to Bella? "So, when's your first… learning experience?" Alice's inflection made my blood boil; I can practically hear her eyebrows wiggling at Bella. I think that I may have growled out loud.

The door swung open and I was suddenly face-to-face with a scantily clad Bella. My mind went into overdrive and began to mentally undress her. My cock twitched. I hoped like hell that the hallway was dark enough to hide my obvious arousal.

"Edward, what are you doing out here?"

_Good question, I'll tell you once I think of a believable lie._

"Uh… umm… I, uh… mmmm…" _Now, if I could only get control of my thought processes, I'll have an answer for you._

I shook my head and lost all train of thought as I watched her nipples pebble underneath the thin ivory fabric. My mouth went dry. I brought my eyes up top for a millisecond and saw that she was checking me out as well. It took me a moment to realize that I was only dressed in a pair of boxers and jeans that my dick was desperately trying to free itself from.

"There's… uh, wow…" I couldn't stop my verbal diarrhea from humiliating me.

Stifled snickering and delicate snorts could be heard from inside the candlelit the room, originating from Bella's bed. My peripheral caught Alice and Rosalie burying their faces in their hands or the bed, trying to keep from laughing and failing horribly at it. Bella must have heard them, too, because her blush traveled down to her chest as she attempted to cover herself up. She was only successful in creating more delicious, spank-bank-worthy cleavage. My tongue practically hung out of my mouth.

"Uh… there's… ready… want food?" What I was supposed to say was, 'dinner's ready downstairs,' but I was distracted by the way her tits were moving as she breathed deeply; they looked so perky and soft, my fingers were itching to prove my assumptions right.

"Oh, okay, let me just put some clothes on."

_I'd rather you didn't, you look good without them_. Rose and Ali squealed and almost died of laughter. Bella looked as if she was torn between embarrassment and joining in on the hysterics.

_Oh shit, I said that out loud didn't I?_ All three nodded at me.

_Face, meet Palm… fuck, I should just shut up._

"What I meant to say was take your time, I'm gonna be a few minutes. I'm just gonna go ja – change. My jeans are still wet, so I'm gonna go change my clothes," I informed her after I had finally removed my foot from my mouth.

"Okay," Bella whispered.

"Spaz," Rosalie coughed as soon as I turned around.

_Yes, Glacial Barbie, I'm well aware of that._

I adjusted myself as I walked into the bathroom and locked the door behind me. I would not tempt fate tonight because those sisters are sadistic bitches; the last one, Atropos, would probably decide to kill me with sheer embarrassment. Taking into account my current streak of mortification, anyone, regardless of a locked door, could come barging in while I beat one off. Plus, it wouldn't take a genius to know what was going on if they heard me moaning Bella's name. I needed a shower, an ice cold one. Now.

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**Sooo... yeah, that was chapter 14. I was going to go in depth about their trip to the school, but thought that it would move a lot quicker if I didn't rehash everything. Bella thinks she Wonder Woman when she's angry and thinks that finding a needle in a haystack is as easy as pie. **

**I'm writing a one-shot called Crumbling Castles. It's almost finished, so be on the look out for that, add me to your author alert list or follow me on Twitter: unLuckky13. I'll probably post a teaser on LJ and let you know through Twitter.**

Also, if you haven't read Bella's Hymen Theory by SwanCullen12, yet. You should! It's hilarious and you feel the need to facepalm yourself everytime Bella opens her mouth. And Edward is just so confused... poor him.  
Here's the summary: Bella theorizes her hymen is connected with heartbreak so she asked housemate and buddy Edward to help her get rid of it. Edward's reply? Hell no!  
And the link: www(.)fanfiction(.)net/s/5809801/1/Bellas_Hymen_Theory

**Does anyone follow boxing? Who else thinks that Mayweather is a complete coward?**

**How bout them Lakers? Go Team! I would love to see another Lakers/Celtics championship series.**

**Thanks for reading!**

**Review, please!**


	15. Chapter 15

**Hello out there in the fanfic world! Anyone still with me? Yes? Great! Very sorry about the wait, RL was so much fun and then it wasn't... and now I'm back. Thank you to everyone who had reviewed, alerted and read this little story of mine.**

**Please excuse any grammatical or spelling errors you may find.**

**Well, let's get on with it. No quote this time.**

**Sadly, _Twilight _still doesn't belong to me.**

**Enjoy!**

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The drive back to Seattle had been quiet without Alice's incessant chatter. She had departed with the rest of the group at the asscrack of dawn, babbling about keeping Emmett from red lining. Whatever the hell that meant. Em had wanted to make it home in time to catch the Seahawks/Jaguars game, catch up on some work and laze around the condo. Rosalie had been eager to hightail it out of Forks (possibly never to return unless absolutely necessary) and Jasper had a ton of studying to do for an exam the next day. I was truly touched when I had realized that they had put their lives and bitterness towards Forks on hold to support me during one of the hardest times in my life.

Of course, I had bitched and moaned about leaving early since I had gotten to sleep only a couple hours before the rest of the group was packed up and ready to go. Odd, disturbing dreams had turned into fully-fledged nightmares and had left me wide awake for most of the night. For hours, I had listened to the raging storm calm itself into submission, like an exhausted two-year-old finally curling up in his mother's lap after a massive temper tantrum.

Thankfully, they hadn't expected me to leave before the sun made its appearance or at least brightened up the sky. Edward had stayed behind as well since he hadn't slept well the previous night, either. He had waved us off with a yawn and headed back to his room for some much needed shut eye, but not before making me promise to head back to the house as soon as we freed my car from its muddy confines. He had held my belongings captive to ensure my return and his ride back to Seattle.

An hour after we had arrived at the intersection where my car was being held prisoner by nature, Alice had hopped into her Porsche with an exaggerated wink in my direction, no doubt thinking about what had transpired between Edward and me the previous night.

Alice and Rosalie had been asking questions and making insinuations immediately after his departure. According to the girls' insight and observations, the revival of my friendship with Edward was one step closer to feelings being admitted and dates being planned.

I had tried _really_ hard - and failed - not to roll my eyes at them. Edward being affectionate with me was nothing new; I had been expecting it from him now that he had managed to weasel his way back into my life. He had been the same way when we were younger, before he had declared war on me without my knowledge.

As each day had passed, his actions towards me were less hesitant, less timid. Slight waves from twenty feet away and small smiles had turned into quick pecks on the cheek and a light hug which in turn evolved into lingering kisses to my forehead and hugs so tight I could feel the hardness of his body pressed up against the soft curves of mine.

Without Edward's knowledge, I had watched as he had adjusted that impressive bulge in his pants. I think he may have forgotten that he had been carrying a lantern and the light illuminating from it made it difficult to hide anything. I had felt perversely smug that I had been able to elicit such a reaction from him.

However, I couldn't take his salute to heart. What non-familial, straight, hormone-driven male would not react to a practically naked, albeit plain, girl in a bedroom complete with candlelight? I mean, come on, even Emmett had checked me out and he had Rose, a girl who perfectly fills out her C cups and jeans.

Edward's obviously erotic dream had just been the result of spending way too much time around me and probably watching copious amounts of porn. I was willing to bet that he had downloaded some sexually explicit videos onto the laptop in his room. What guy wouldn't?

Eventually, we had turned it into a girls' night; we brought up leftovers from dinner, ate banana splits - even though it was only a smidgen warmer than the Arctic tundra outside - and gossiped. Guys had been the number one topic and Jail Bird Lauren, aka J-Lau thanks to Alice, was secondary. Mercifully, Alice had left out painting each others' nails, mini facials and hair masks.

As embarrassing as it was to talk to those two about Edward, his libido and my disappointing sex life, I had happily indulged them with answers and often supplied questions and comments. I would have spilled my guts about my desire to get naked and lock him in the room with me if discussing him in that way meant that the conversation would steer clear of the reason I had sought out isolation. I hadn't been ready to rehash my findings without crying or getting angry and hurling that heavy baroque-style clock into the wall. As understanding as Esme was, I didn't think that she would appreciate having me destroy her property.

I had become increasingly irritated with myself because I was just getting used to Edward playing nice and being in my life again, yet I couldn't help but hope that he had stronger more-than-friends feelings for me. I felt like one of those idiot girls that eagerly ran into their lover's arms as soon as lover said sorry. Edward had been such a dick to me for so long that many people would most likely question my sanity for wanting him in any way other than an acquaintance. It was just really hard and exhausting to hold onto my grudges when he was being sweet and considerate all the time.

While I had been dozing off in the car, he had been thoughtful enough to pick up some Dramamine in Port Angeles, so I wouldn't get motion sickness on the slow moving ferry while it glided across the relatively calm Puget Sound. Even the thought of cruising on the water had my stomach threatening to revolt. And if the Dramamine didn't work he had also picked up a regular sized box saltine crackers and extra bottles of water.

My relationship with Edward was moving along in a direction that I had deemed appropriate for our situation. We had spent the better part of the trip home getting reacquainted and playing stupid car games.

Our conversations and laughter were uninterrupted but inhibited on my part; I had been reluctant to share all of my experiences in Phoenix with Edward. There were just some things that I hadn't been comfortable broadcasting. My douche bag ex-boyfriends, multiple extended stays in the hospital and therapy sessions were some examples under sharing; I would have hated revealing something so miserable in the middle of our laughter. And I really didn't want him to pity me or see me as the pathetically weak girl he used to pick on.

A major hot topic during the car ride had been the impending phone call to Renee. With mostly level heads, we had debated the merits of striking while the iron was hot - or in my case, while my anger was boiling - versus waiting until I was calm enough to use my 'inside voice' on the phone like a mature adult. The tantrum-throwing troublemaker in me had kicked my shins, pulled my hair and then had proceeded to pout when she had seen which option I had been leaning towards.

In the end, I was glad that Edward had managed to talk me out of making the call while my emotions were running high. The message I had originally wanted to deliver to Renee was scathing and hurtful. I had been ready and willing to open up wounds that had already healed in the sanctuary of Doctor Murphy's office.

I had considerably cooled down since our return from Forks two days ago, but there was no doubt in my mind or Edward's that I was still seriously pissed off with all the secrecy surrounding the murder. Legally speaking, it was vehicular manslaughter, but it was murder all the same. It was a felony worthy of life in prison or the needle.

I felt my face distort in bitter dissatisfaction and disappointment as I replayed the message that I had finally decided on in my head. I hadn't meant to sound so condescending and bitchy, but it just came out that way. At least the message hadn't been overrun with expletives and accusations that time.

_"Hey, it's Bella. Phil said that you were going to be in Japan for the next week, so I was hoping that you could take… maybe… a couple minutes out of your busy day and call your first-born back. See… I learned some things over the weekend and I would _really_ appreciate it if you explained one or two of them to me. I know that you know what I'm talking about. Call me back, Renee."_

Immediately after hanging up, I had wished that I had her password; I would have loved to delete that voicemail.

"Hello. Bella?" He whistled and waved his hands in my face; I flinched at the unexpected nearness.

"Sorry, where were we? Word problems? Or was it functions?" I asked, snapping myself out of my thoughts.

Midterms were a few weeks away and I still didn't know what the hell _f_(x) was. Why the hell couldn't those math geniuses just simply call it 'f' or something? Did they really need to make things more difficult?

It was my first "learning experience" with Tyler and it was not going well at all; the past weekend kept running through my head and the inevitable phone call from Renee had me on pins and needles. It was nearly impossible for me to concentrate on anything but the things I could have said and done differently. Not to mention we were reviewing math; that was space-out material all on its own.

Tyler was very easy on the eyes and I was physically attracted to him in a way that would have embarrassed the shit out of me if he had noticed my gawking - open mouth, drool and all. But, there was so much more to him than just another pretty face; his personality was welcoming and put me at ease.

Like I had already mentioned, Tyler had the bad boy persona down to a T, but he was incredibly smart and easy to get along with. The study session was only the second time I had talked to him at length and I had already felt all kinds of relaxed around him. Zero intimidation.

His hazel eyes held nothing but understanding and patience in my struggle to make sense of numbers and variables. He hadn't banged his head against the table, questioning out loud why he had decided to help me in the first place. His voice had neither been strained nor condescending after he had to explain to me for the fourth in a row time how to solve a word problem. Tyler's comforting smile told me that I would understand what the hell he was trying to teach me… eventually.

I was thankful that I hadn't stumbled over my questions and explanations for answers or uttered anything that would have him questioning my IQ more than he already had.

I wanted the chance to get to know him better. But, of course, I had to be cautious around guys like him; in my experience some people were natural-born liars with a suave sugar coating.

Case in point, the resident rich boy rebel without a cause I had been involved with in high school had practically humiliated me and then laughed about it for weeks until we had retaliated.

The asshole had pretended to be a reformed badass and that I had been completely responsible for it. He had every one fooled. Hell, he even had Tanya fooled. And let me tell you, duping her was not easy. She could smell bullshit from a mile away.

In my blissful ignorance of a new relationship, he and his friends had been running a betting pool with large sums of money on the amount of days or weeks it would take him to convince me to round the bases. Taking my virginity within two months would have meant a twenty-five hundred dollar bonus for him. We had only been together for three weeks by the time Angela had discovered their ploy.

While I had been fine with being a coward and letting things go, Tanya had insisted on striking back. Although Tanya hadn't destroyed him like she had wanted, she had spread a very believable rumor around school that Aaron had an STD. The student body, or whoever gave a shit about what went on in high school, had assumed that his reluctance to tell me about his genital herpes was the reason for our breakup.

As far as I know, the only girls who were willing to fuck him were the ones who already had herpes. Aaron had found it challenging to squash a rumor perceived to be fact when it had been circulating between three-thousand people. I had felt bad for putting him through that experience, but the asshole kind of deserved it.

That was reason why bad boys were Tanya's type; she had a take-no-shit attitude and a colorful vocabulary to match. She had the ability to make a seasoned jarhead blush like a virgin on her wedding night – I've seen it happen. She was a mastermind and used her powers to punish evil instead of torment innocents. To be absolutely honest, she was kind of scary and I was delighted that she was on my side.

Although Tyler was, indeed, some pretty fucking hot eye candy and seemingly a great person to spend time with, even with math involved, I was eagerly counting down the minutes until our session ended. I had already endured an hour and a half of lecture and now I had devoted two hours of my life to more useless algebra on a biweekly basis until the end of the quarter. I was desperately trying not to gouge my eyes out with my clear blue mechanical pencil.

"We were on quadratic formulas," he informed me with an amused smile. My head hit the table with a loud thud.

_We were still on that shit? I could have sworn we had finished that about fifteen minutes ago._

When will I ever use that crap in my life? When? I was an English major; I understood words and I excelled at analyzing and interpreting texts because it left room for argument and change. Math, on the other hand, was too rigid; the subject had too many rules to memorize and adhere to. It drove me crazy. Other than add, subtract, multiply and divide, I didn't need to know anything else!

I knew he was speaking to me because his mouth was moving, forming words. Unfortunately, he was also pointing at my textbook, so I pretty much tuned him out.

"Wanna go for lunch? I'm starving." Tyler must have seen the drool coming out at the corner of my mouth and my eyes glazing over with boredom. I gleefully jumped at the chance to get away from the mind-numbing subject for a while.

The ground was wet from the recent rainfall and temperatures were borderline frigid. But, only a few clouds dotted the bluish-gray skyline and the sun was shining. I was glad that the weather had decided to be agreeable because we to chose to walk, completely bypassing all campus based restaurants without any hesitation in favor of something a little more appetizing.

Tyler walked with his hands stuffed in his jean pockets, never more than two feet away from me. My books and his helmet were safely locked away in a study room at the Odegaard. Every so often, he threw furtive glances in my direction as if making sure I was still with him while I fiddled with my umbrella. I had learned long ago that one should always be prepared for rain while in the Pacific Northwest – especially if it's not summer.

He led me to a restaurant where he swore up and down that they made the best desserts in Seattle. It was cute to watch him bounce on the balls on his feet and face light up at the prospect of a sugar high. His behavior was definitely a contradiction to his appearance; he was like a kid who had just found out that he was having chocolate cake and a vanilla milkshake for dinner.

The space was large, dimly lit and almost packed to capacity at three in the afternoon. It had that hip, modern vibe to it where you had to look a certain way in order to be noticed, yet it was inviting and not at all threatening to my self-esteem. The walls were the color of a rich earthy green. Steel track lighting showcased ebony-framed black and white photos taken by local artists; surely the people who had captured these moments and objects on film were not simply photographers. They had an eye for catching the beauty in the simplest of subjects.

From the waiting area I saw cobalt blue glass lamp shades hanging low above each set of black leather booths and rosewood tables; matching stand alone tables and chairs enjoyed dim recessed lighting and beautiful glass oil lamps. All around the restaurant, purple, white and red phalaenopsis orchids encased in glossy, burgundy ceramic pots contrasted the cool-colored environment.

I was stunned by its beauty and almost slapped myself for not finding this little gem sooner; it was less than a mile off campus.

A shrill ringing had cut through the ambient noise of the restaurant and Tyler apologetically handed me the restaurant pager before he stepped outside to answer the call. To lower the risk of hurting myself and anyone else in a ten-foot radius, I took the first available seat against the wall.

A crowd of guys clad in sweaty shirts and basketball shorts flooded the doors with absolutely no respect for the people who were unfortunate enough to be around them; they were pushing, shoving, laughing and cursing. I had never heard so many f-bombs being dropped within the span of forty-five seconds.

The two hostesses made disgusted faces and rolled their eyes at each other before turning to the group with wide, fake Colgate smiles.

_It's too bad the restaurant didn't have a dress code; they would have been kicked out as soon as their sweaty asses stepped through those doors._

As a result of their roughhousing, a two-hundred-something-pound guy had crushed me under his weight. The restaurant manager had threatened to exercise their right to refuse service if their behavior continued to be disruptive.

I assured the manager that there was no lasting damage, blushing at the attention I had unwillingly garnered, and chose to stand in a corner near the entrance.

Gazing through the fingerprint-smudged glass doors, I hoped to find Tyler and convey an SOS message with my eyes. A guy I had come to know as Ralph, a member of the now-behaved group - and a person who had an exceedingly bad case of B.O. - had sidled up to me to apologize for his friend. The topic of conversation had veered way off course as he began complimenting me on my feminine body parts. I practically shoved my arms back into my coat to cover myself. He was a persistent asshole and I briefly wondered if I had enough energy to make up an elaborate lie.

_Something along the lines of 'my birth certificate claims that I was born male, it's a technicality that I had already taken care of' or 'thank you, I love my new boobs as well; I've been waiting to get a pair my whole life.'_

When I finally spotted Tyler near one of the hidden outdoor ashtrays, I decided to hang back. He was bickering with someone who could have passed as his twin.

The guy who smelled like he needed three showers and a Costco sized pack of deodorant eventually left me alone after I hadn't bothered to be polite; his questions and comments were met with the stone cold shoulder of a highly uninterested girl. His departure meant that I could focus all my attention on the escalating altercation unraveling before my eyes instead of trying not to pass out from the stench of his armpits.

Here's the play-by-play: Twin took a step forward and invaded Tyler's personal space. Tyler's face and neck turned a shade of red while his facial expression and his hands rhythmically clenched, suggesting that he was losing his cool. Something Twin said must have set him off because Tyler started thrusting his finger into Twin's chest, punctuating each word that fell from his lips with a jab. Twin swatted Tyler's hand away only to get closer to his face, retaliating with more words.

It was times like this that I wished that I had the ability to read lips or minds; I had half a mind to crack open the door and eavesdrop. Ultimately, I decided against that plan of action because with my luck I'd most likely fall through the doorway with my face flat on the floor and ass up in the air. Falling was not an option for me today, low-rise jeans and a red thong could be responsible for me dying of embarrassment. Ralph could decide to come to my rescue and help me hide my panties inside of my jeans. I shuddered in revulsion at the likely possibility.

Tyler pushed Twin off to a respectable distance. Their demeanor and the looks on both faces were a good indicator of an imminent throw down; Tyler looked like he was trying to set his twin on fire with his stare while Twin stood there with a sneer on his face and taunting eyes. A guy with a faux hawk ran towards the two and stepped in between them, reasoning with both of them before taking a step back.

Vibrations and flashing lights caught my attention; the restaurant pager I was clutching between my hands indicated that our table was ready. I pushed on the silver swirl-designed door handle and it easily gave way to the pressure.

"Um, Tyler?" I called out timidly, waving the flashing pager in his direction. After a few more uttered words in Twin's face, Tyler made his way towards me with what I could tell was a forced smile.

"Is everything alright?" I asked softly, afraid to upset him even further with my inquiry.

"Yeah, just a little disagreement," he replied nonchalantly with a shrug of his shoulders, as if it heated arguments happen on a daily basis. For him, it probably does.

"So… you have a brother?" I asked after the hostess had left us at our table with a couple of menus behind. We were interrupted before he could give me an answer.

"This whiny asshole is my best friend and was supposed to be my brother-in-law," Tyler's twin told me before flashing me a million dollar smile.

_Brother-in-law? Who was engaged to whom?_

"Royce King, you must be Bella," he proclaimed, hand outstretched for me to shake. I was momentarily stunned by his blinding smile and the charisma he seemed to exude. I nodded and politely reached out to return the greeting, but Royce had other ideas; he flipped my hand over and gave it a butterfly kiss.

_Um… alright…_

"Eric and I have heard so much about you," he gestured over to the cute, faux-hawk-wearing, cooler-than-you guy with a Japanese inspired half-sleeve.

Well, color me completely surprised; never in a million years would I think that I was worthy enough of Tyler's attention outside of school. Well, technically we were outside of campus at the moment, but he was starving and in the mood for chocolate cake and I worked up an appetite on our way over.

"Really?" I asked skeptically. I glanced at Tyler, who had been eerily quiet upon his friends' arrival, to find him glaring at the two uninvited guests. 'If looks could kill' came to mind. Tyler's brow was furrowed; eyes in slits and his mouth formed a hard line. He was already red, but I was surprised that steam hadn't billowed out of his ears.

In that instance, I was afraid of him. He looked lethal. His anger might have been directed at his best friend, but I could easily be caught in the crossfire.

"Oh, yeah! It was 'Bella this' and 'Bella that' for weeks!" Exclaimed Royce as his eyes slid over to Tyler with a permanent smirk etched on his face.

"Man, come on. Let's leave 'em alone."

"So, where are you from, Bella?" Royce asked, completely ignoring Eric. He made himself comfortable next to his best friend, perusing Tyler's menu while waiting for my answer.

"Phoenix." My eyes darted over to Tyler while I gave my response. He looked like he was fighting a losing battle against a burst of uncontrolled rage.

"The weather must have been hard to adjust to, huh?" He questioned. All the while, Eric was doing his best to remove Royce from his seat without making a huge debacle.

"Well, I actually grew up in Washington… in Forks. So it wasn't like the cold was a huge shock to my system." I shifted in my seat, hoping that the questions would stop. I didn't want to be rude and tell him to fuck off. But, I also didn't want to add to Tyler's displeasure by inadvertently inviting his friends to have lunch with us because I couldn't shut my damn mouth.

I was debating whether or not I wanted to be alone with him at that point. If his friends stayed, then it could mean that he would reach his boiling point in a matter of minutes. If his friends left, then I could be stuck with a potentially dangerous brooder.

He was like Jekyll and Hyde. I was praying for the sweeter, calmer side to make an appearance, to push away the volatile creature waiting to blow up right in front of my face.

Royce looked pensive for a moment. "Never heard of it," he told me with a shake of his head. "So, do you fantasize about naughty things, Bella?" He purred, eyes roaming what the table hadn't covered. That was probably the last question I had expected of him.

"Uh…" _Seriously?_

"Alright, that's enough! Find your own damn table and leave us alone. Eric, watch him!" Tyler snapped, slamming his hand on the table. The sound of his palm slapping the wood caught the attention of nosy customers and panicked looking servers.

"Fine, geez, I was kidding. Where's your sense of humor, Ty? Well, I gotta take a piss. Hold on to that for me will ya?" Royce tossed his pager in Eric's direction. "I need both hands to wrangle this monster… just something for you to think about," he pointed to his crotch and winked at me before turning on his heel to head towards the restrooms. Eric apologized and waved his goodbyes as he followed behind Royce to leave us in peace.

"Okay…"

"Sorry about that, Royce is a little headstrong, impulsive when it comes to words, and alcohol only makes it worse."

"It's barely three o'clock and he's already hitting the sauce? Shouldn't he be working or something?"

"He has a problem with alcohol. We've done all we can; AA meetings, interventions, pouring his alcohol down the drain... he can't get better if he doesn't want to. And he doesn't have to work; he lives off of his trust fund."

I was powerless to keep the image of Royce King behind the wheel of Victoria's car from flickering across my mind. Was this how it was going to be until the culprit was caught? Thinking that every drunk I came across had been responsible for slamming into Dad's cruiser? Considering that the police had no leads, I pretty much deduced that my line of thinking was not going anywhere.

I had finally made it back to the Escala around seven in the evening. My thoughts were swirling around my enlightening conversation with Tyler; he had insisted on getting to know each other if we were to become friends. He had been very forthcoming with his answers, despite the awkwardness of some questions.

Tyler had been born and raised in Seattle. His mother, an avid art collector, had died shortly after his sixteenth birthday. She had been rendered brain dead after a ruptured cerebral aneurysm. His absentee father, a hot-shot business mogul, had married his secretary about five months after his wife's death. Since money was no object, Cynthia, the current Crowley wife, had hired a team of wedding coordinators to plan the most extravagant ceremony and reception on short notice. Tyler was still bitter about that union since the timing had been inappropriate and his step-mother was a mere four years older than him.

Tyler had no other siblings other than a brother named Paul. With that being cleared up, it became glaringly obvious to me that he was once engaged to Royce's sister.

He must have read the burning curiosity on my face because he had caved and had given me the condensed version of their lifelong history - it was over in less than ten minutes.

Gianna King had started out as Tyler's best friend's annoying younger sister. Around high school, while he was a junior and she was a sophomore, he had realized his feelings for her; they eventually became high school sweethearts. She had followed him to UW after her high school career, Tyler had proposed a little over a year ago and their destination wedding date had been set for December.

Unfortunately, their relationship had hit a rough patch at the end of July, had started to crumble by mid-August and the wedding had been officially called off last month, five days after they had received their order of three-hundred wedding invitations from Paper Olive, a company in West Hollywood.

"Trust is everything in a relationship, Bella," he had told me.

Judging from the way his voice had cracked, I knew that it was still a painful memory for him. I bit my tongue and decided not to ask who had broken that trust.

The miniscule, dormant gossip queen in me had wanted to ask about Royce and what his deal was, but I had figured that bringing up the King family would be a sore subject.

The sounds of the city and our footsteps had been the only things we had heard on our walk back to campus. The silence had stretched on; he had probably been reflecting on his thoughts while my silence had been due to wracking my brain to find something light and witty to make him smile.

Before I had the opportunity to broach safer topics, like the reason why he had decided to have pity on me and educate me in the ways of college algebra, he had begun to ask me about Forks. I gave him the courtesy of answering questions since he had opened up to me about his ex-fiancée.

It had been hilarious to hear that he had assumed I had been a heartbreaker throughout my life. With embarrassing stories, I had thoroughly assured him that I had been considered a social leper in Forks and practically a wallflower in Phoenix.

He had learned about my painful last years in my hometown and the first couple months in Seattle. When Tyler had commended me on my restraint not to bury the hatchet _within_ my childhood enemies' backs as soon as the opportunity arose, I had regaled him with stories of my half-cocked pranks. I had admitted that it was an immature thing to do, but he had commiserated with me and told me that they had it coming one way or another.

Once his laughter had died down, the six-foot-two hottie had questioned me about my parentage. Unwilling to get emotional in front of a guy I had barely known, I had given him the one-page, study guide version of my life with Charlie. I had immediately felt guilty and ungrateful. Charlie was the kind of man and father one would have been proud of. His accomplishments, wisdom or our father/daughter moments were enough material to last us hours, however, I blew through it like I was ashamed of his memory.

Mercifully, he had begun his inquisition of Arizona life when I had been reduced to answer with 'yes, no, I don't know.'

His thoughts on Renee abandoning me only to start another family a few years down the road was pretty much what I had been expecting - he thought that it was fucked up. However, he had given her credit for taking me in when my father had passed, considering she had only made an effort to see me three times as I was growing up.

Tyler was a Seahawks fan through and through, but he had noticeably perked up when I had informed him that Phil Dwyer was my step-father. Promising signed memorabilia in exchange for tutoring me, we had gone separate ways in campus the parking lot.

"Hey, Bella, do you want to come over for dinner?"

I wasn't paying attention to my surroundings and I startled at the voice, almost dropping my books in the process. Alice was standing just outside of her open door, shrugging on a coat.

"Uh… thanks for the invitation, Alice, but I think I'll pass." I lowered my face, pretending to search for the keys that I already held in my hand in order to hide the grimace on my face. Dinner at the Cullen condo was an insult to my digestive system.

"No worries, Bella, nobody is cooking. We're ordering pizza. Jazz and I are heading out to pick it up… any requests?"

"No thanks, it's really not necessary, Alice. I ate a few hours ago."

"Hey… didn't you have that tutoring session today?" She asked with an eyebrow raised. I nodded with a small smile.

"It's already seven, aren't your classes over by 1:30?"

"Uh, yes?"

"Uh huh, you're gonna tell me all about that later."

"Hey, Bella, you coming over?" Jasper asked. I shrugged noncommittally.

"We're having sort of a study group party. Obviously we won't be reviewing the same things, but we help each other out if we know the subject well enough. Food that didn't come from the freezer is a bonus. So, just come on over and study with us. Rosalie is awesome with math," Alice informed me.

"Yeah, that sounds good. I'm just gonna grab some books from inside and change, then I'll head over."

"Alright, we'll see you in a bit. Alice and I have to get going; Emmett is claiming that his stomach is trying to eat itself again."

They walked off looking disgustingly cute together despite the distinct height difference while I unlocked my door and lamented my non-existent love life.

_Tsk. I want someone to kiss on a daily basis._

Leaving the mail on the foyer table and keys in the catchall, I started towards the dining room. It was where I set up shop for studying. I would have preferred to study alone, but I was more inclined to be sidetracked by errant thoughts. Yesterday, I had read the same paragraph twenty times before I had finally given up and decided to do a sitcom marathon on Netflix. I could at least be motivated to focus if everyone else was, I wouldn't want to feel like the only slacker in a room of studious students.

My breath caught in my throat as I gathered my laptop, binders and textbooks. From inside of my khaki green and brown leather messenger bag, I heard the distinctive ringtone I had reserved solely for Renee.

One half of me – the cowardly half – wanted me to ignore the ringing because I was afraid of what Renee would say… how angry she would be with my tone of voice. I had come to respect her over the years and I hadn't spoken to her in that manner since I had first started therapy. We were just like any mother/daughter duo out there now, I was reprimanded and lectured for anything that might piss Renee off.

The braver half urged my hand to reach into the side pocket and retrieve the ringing object… get it over with and get my answers. I knew what I had to do and I was going to do it, but it didn't mean that burying my head in the sand sounded like a better option.

With a shaking hand, I grabbed the phone and pressed the green answer button.

"Hi, Mom," my voice wavered pathetically. I was terrified that this conversation would cause a rift between us. If I didn't keep my anger in check, I would eventually push her too far and I could possibly lose the only family I have left in the world. There is only so much a person can put up with until they start pushing back. And I knew that if she pushed back, I would get defensive and the whole thing would spiral out of control.

There were only two things that I could do now, pray… and hope for the best possible outcome.

* * *

**AN: This chapter was a little boring. More information than action, but now that I had given more background info on the characters, the story will start to pick up and move faster.**

**Thank you so much for your patience and support.**

**Oh yeah, for those of you who haven't read my one-shot, you can find it on my profile. It's been posted since May. **

**Not much else to say, mostly because I'm tired of thinking. But, if I do have something to say, I'll probably tweet about it. Link is on my profile.**

**Thanks for reading!**


	16. Chapter 16

Hello, all! I'm back with another chapter and at least it didn't take me another 2 - 3 months to post it! Great, we're getting somewhere! I would like to thank all of you who read, reviewed and alerted; it gives me that warm, fuzzy feeling =) Thanks for sticking with me through my sporadic updates. I'll try to do better, but I'm very easily distracted.

Happy Labor Day to those in the US; hope you're enjoying your day off. If you're working or anywhere but the states... it's Monday =( Boo!

Alright, this disclaimer will apply to the rest of the story. _The Twilight Saga_ belongs to Stephenie Meyer. Anything you may recognize, _Twilight _or otherwise, probably isn't mine.

Please excuse any grammatical, punctuational and/or spellings errors you may find throughout this story; it is unbetaed and my mind is still on summer and the fun times I've had.

Now, Bella's phone conversation with Mom. Happy reading!

* * *

"_Bella…" I heard her sigh through the receiver. I easily imagined her demeanor running a manicured, slender hand wearily across her face._

"_How could you keep something like that from me?"I quietly asked, trying keeping my emotions in check._

"_Honey, I'm sorry, okay? If you had just answered my calls, I could have given you a heads up; you could have been a little more prepared."_

"_Oh, so, this is my fault?" I snapped incredulously. How dare she put this on me!_

"_No, honey, that's—"_

"_I don't answer the phone to give you a chance to 'give me a heads up,' so it's my fault that I'm surprised as fuck?"_

"_Bella, language," she warned. I ignored her. _

"_You've had four years to come clean and clear the air with me, yet you didn't say a word! You had to have known I was going to find out now that I'm living a mere four hours from Forks. Why did you lie to me all that time?"_

"_I never lied to you, Bella." She sounded exasperated. "God, I could throttle James for telling you," she muttered almost too low for me to make out._

"_At least he had the guts and decency to let me know what was going on. By the sounds of it, if you had your own way then I'd still be in that dark. And, yeah, you've lied by omission, Mom. You let me believe that the person responsible for the crash was dead. Why would you let me believe that when you know it wasn't true?"_

"_Well, when was a good time to tell you, Bella?" She angrily snapped at me for the first time in my life._

_For a moment I was rendered speechless. Sure, I had gotten into trouble in the past, but she had always managed to keep her cool. Even when I had called her every name in the book – to her face – she had usually handled my outbursts with a calmness that I hadn't been able to tolerate. Her level headedness had irked me; I had been looking for a fight, but she had never been a willing opponent. Other than a slightly elevated voice to speak over my screeching, she had always chosen placating words and a soothing tone over yelling back at me and telling me what a lousy daughter I had turned out to be._

"_You were like the walking dead… unresponsive and barely living! You overdosed on pain meds after your accident, Bella, you almost committed suicide!" She hissed._

"_I wasn't trying to…" The protest sounded weak, even to my ears. It had taken me a long time and a lot of therapy to understand that my pain was emotional and mental, rather than physical. I remembered loving the feeling of numbness the painkillers had brought and the ability it had given me to pass out without the vivid nightmares._

_The worst recurring nightmare I've had the displeasure of dreaming had been about the sacrificing of Charlie's life during a satanic ritual. I had never seen any faces under the hooded black robes, nor have I heard any voices other than whispered chanting in an extinct language. But, I do remember the ones who had held me back while I had watched those demons fillet my father; three of them live across the hall._

"_If Phil and I hadn't checked on you before we went to bed, you wouldn't be here right now! Do you know what it was like to see you like that? You scared the shit out of everyone, Bella! I thought that I was going to have to bury my baby girl when they couldn't get your heart started!" She cried. _

_I felt horrible; we were rehashing our sessions without a professional mediator. We had accepted the consequences of both our actions, accepted that it was part of a past that we couldn't change, however it didn't mean that the hurt and feelings of betrayal ever really went away._

"_So, tell me when was I supposed to drop that bombshell? When you told me that you didn't have a mother because a mother never abandons her child? It was never the right time."_

_I remembered that day with crystal clarity. Back then, I couldn't hide the cruel satisfaction on my face as I watched her crumble under my words. I had declared to her that I had wished that she could switch places with Charlie since she was nothing more than a paycheck to me. She had essentially been a stranger who had given me money to ease the guilt she had felt over abandoning her flesh and blood. The incident was over three years ago, yet it still made my body clench with shame and regret and sadness. Tears welled up, but I refused to let them fall. I refused to let her guilt me into apologizing to her._

"_How about when I got better? When_ we_ got better? I was strong enough," I said slowly, trying not to snap at her._

"_Baby, you were doing so well and I didn't have the heart to bring you back down. You were making friends, your grades were up in school and you were just so happy. I couldn't be the one who wiped that smile off of your face. You were stronger, yes, but the truth still could have destroyed you."_

"_You don't know that, you couldn't have! You didn't know me well enough back then to decide what I could and could not handle!" She didn't respond because she knew I was right. To be honest, I don't know how I would have handled it, but there was no way I'd be confessing that little tidbit._

"_So, when were you going to say something about it?" I sighed._

_She exhaled a heavy breath before answering, "I wasn't…"_

"_Mom!"_

"_I wasn't going to tell you until the police had the right guy in custody. I had been keeping in touch with James; we talked about once a month. He would keep me updated and I would do the same. He was worried about you, but I couldn't let you talk to him. I wanted you to have a fresh start away from Forks. You were in a bad place and I couldn't allow those haunting memories to follow you. _

"_I know that I've missed out on most of your life, but I know you, Bella. You wouldn't have been able to let this go. You would have let it taint his memory. I wanted you to look back and remember the happy times with your father, not be reminded that the driver's identity stumped the local PD._

"_We knew that no good would come from telling you when there was nothing more that the police could do. You needed peace of mind in order to move on, so we kept it a secret. We did it to protect you!" She pleaded with me to understand._

"_Protect me from what? I wish that everyone would just stop saying that!" I gritted through my teeth. "I can think for myself! I can make decisions for myself! You should have told me regardless of what you thought I needed!" I yelled angrily._

"_Bella, you're my daughter… of course I'll try to protect you in any way I can! I shielded the truth from you because I know you wouldn't have handled it any better than you are right now. Listen to us, we're fighting, we're yelling at each other!"_

"_Oh, no, you're mistaken, _Mother_. We're fighting because you willingly kept this from me because what? You didn't think my mind was strong enough to process the information? How am I supposed to have faith in you and trust you when you can't be honest with me? You waited until there was a possibility of being caught up in a lie to tell me. That's not honesty, that's covering your own ass," I snapped viciously._

"_Isabella, I did what I thought was best for you at the time." she said coolly without remorse. I heard it in her voice; she wasn't sorry for keeping it from me. The only thing Renee was sorry about was that she had been caught._

"_Oh, like leaving me motherless for most of my life was best for me?" I spat. "Up until four years ago you were a stranger. The state had more of a right to dictate my needs than you ever did." I regretted it as soon as it came out of my mouth. I groaned at my stupidity as I heard Renee exhale sharply._

"_Crap! Mom, I'm sorry. I didn't mean that."_

"_Uh, um, it's fine. Listen, I, uh, I have to go, Isabella; I'm running late for a meeting," her voice cracked and I heard the tears in her voice. FUCK!_

"_I love you, baby girl. Always will," she whispered._

"_I love you, too, Mom. I'm sorry." I stayed on the line until she hung up on me without another word. I was undoubtedly the biggest bitch on the planet._

A week had gone by after that conversation had taken place and I still hadn't heard from her. Worried for my relationship with my mother, I had picked up the phone and called her, figuring that we both had adequate time to cool down. I had gotten her voicemail again and it was another five days until she had returned my call.

We had kept things light and fluffy, almost like our last exchange hadn't happened… almost. Awkward silences were frantically filled with small talk about Japanese architecture and culture, questions about UW and a masquerade ball hosted by the Cardinals' president.

Although I had been dying to apologize for my behavior that last time we had spoken, it seemed that Renee was adamant about ignoring the big pink elephant in the room… phone… whatever. Maybe it was her way of punishing me, allowing my guilt to gnaw at my insides until there was nothing left but a huge gaping hole.

_Mission accomplished, Mom!_

I hadn't gotten any satisfactory answers or apologies, but I had decided to let it go. I didn't have the heart to fight with my mother over something that could no longer be changed; my being right and entitled to an apology wasn't as important as keeping a healthy relationship with family. As for future conversations, I would have to be vigilant with my words around her. I had to remember to use my brain and consider the penalties of my thoughts before I opened up my mouth and put them into words.

"Bella, get your ass out here! I wanna see what it looks like!"

I looked at my figure in the full-length mirror and scowled at the skimpy referee costume I was wearing. My boobs were spilling out of the extremely low-cut top and my ass cheeks were centimeters away from being exposed from underneath the micro mini skirt. This garish outfit showed more skin than my sleepwear!

If you're thinking Halloween party, you guessed right. Somehow, between Ali's puppy-dog eyes and Em's dimples, I had gotten roped into attending a party in the 'burbs. Apparently, a fraternity president's parents had left their home open and susceptible to blow-out parties when they had decided to fly south for the autumn and winter months. Tanya, Kate and Angela had agreed that I should push aside my wallflower tendencies and embrace college life.

"No! There is no way in hell that I'm wearing this outside of this room!" I yelled through the white slatted door.

"Oh, come on! Just a little peek?" Alice pleaded.

"No!" I yelled petulantly, pouting and crossing my arms like a child. I released my stance when I noticed that the action had made my nipple pop out; Alice had instructed me to remove my demi-cup bra to get the full effect of the costumes since they were to be used without traditional support, but with loads of double sided tape.

"Please! I'll buy you a huge chocolate cake…"

Although I had the means and opportunity to buy it for myself, I caved; everything tasted so much better when it came free… especially when the item in question was chocolate.

She whistled a cat call as I slowly opened the door to the tiny, blue-wallpapered fitting room. "Damn, you look hot! I may have to rethink my costume. I'll look like a nun compared to you."

"Alice, you'll look like an extra from the _Lady Marmalade _video. Your outfit is basically a corset with ruffled panties and thigh highs. If nuns looked like that, I'm sure that more people would attend church regardless of religion or lack thereof. And I am not wearing this to the party! Or this! Or this!" I shoved the slutty French maid and sexy witch costumes at her, waiting for her to take them out of my sight.

"But, you didn't even try these on!" She whined, sounding remarkably like a teenager being dragged to the bowling alley for family fun night.

"And I'm not going to, Alice. Seriously, these costumes are not me. I'm not comfortable with putting myself on display like that."

"Fine," she huffed with an exaggerated pout.

"Oh, shut it, Ali. If Bella doesn't want to wear something as slutty as yours, then don't force her," Rosalie teased. Alice looked affronted.

"Excuse you, but I wouldn't be talking," she said with a playful attitude. "Your pin up girl sailor costume is a bra with sleeves and booty shorts."

"Yeah, yeah, whatever, you know I look hot in it." Rosalie smiled that smug smile when Alice reluctantly agreed and then held out a bag containing another potential costume.

"If this thing has a skirt that ends higher than mid-thigh or if my tits are going to hang out, then no," I declared as I pushed her hand away.

"No skirt, I promise. But, I guarantee that you _will_ look fucking hot in it," she told me, matter-of-factly. I eyed her skeptically, wondering if all the black pinstriped material was some sort of stylish grim reaper outfit.

"Quit stalling and just try it on!" She groaned and pushed me inside of the fitting room, activating the automatic lock as she closed the door behind me.

Well, there certainly was a lot more fabric in this bag compared to the other three I had just seen. I didn't bother looking at the picture on the front of the clear bag, opting to just remove it from its container and get it over with. The faster I tried it on, the faster I could reject it and move on… again.

I couldn't hide the grin that spread across my face if I tried. The costume was a cheap polyester excuse for an era piece, a gangster girl from the 1920s, but it was in no way Pam Anderson worthy! The only parts that would be fully exposed to the elements were my arms and shoulders.

The costume had high-waisted, wide-legged pinstriped pants that began under my bust. Two strips of fabric had been sewn on at the back and attached to white buttons on the front… kind of like suspenders, but probably more like overall straps. The button-up halter style dress shirt gave the illusion of being sexy without slutty, meaning my girls weren't hanging out of my top, putting on a show for everyone to see.

I had to give Rose some credit; this costume was by far my favorite… lucky number twenty-five. Half of the gear I had tried on or seen today had been rejected by Alice and Rose while the other half had been vehemently rejected by me.

Leaving the unwanted referee costume in a crumpled heap of skankiness on the floor in the corner, I opened the door with a flourish and struck a sexy – at least in my mind it was – pose against the door jamb. The matching hat was on my head and tipped to one side.

"Nice," a recognizable charming voice murmured. I instantly blushed in embarrassment and straightened out my posture.

I cleared my throat nervously before I spoke. "What are you doing here? I thought you guys were holed up in the Lego store." I relaxed my stiff demeanor and leaned my shoulder up against the wall, trying to appear nonchalant. I had no idea what to do with my hands, so I let one arm dangle to my waist while my left hand was propped up on my jutted hip. Something told me that I was not pulling off aloof very well. My movement, no matter how small, came off looking rigid and robotic rather than fluid.

"We were… until we got kicked out. Em and Jazz made Lego swords and used them to sword fight." He rolled his eyes and I snorted.

"That's not even the reason why we were asked to leave and never go back."

I raised an eyebrow and waited for him to continue.

"J tripped on his shoelace and went crashing into one of their Lego statues. Thankfully, nobody was hurt and there was only minor damage to the store."

"And where were you in all of this? Did you just pretend not to know them and walk away?"

"Yeah, tried that… didn't work, though. They saw us walk in together and talking to each other. Oh, before I forget, this is for you," he smirked at me as he produced a red rose made out of Lego pieces.

"You know that they didn't put these out so you can take them from the store, right?"

"Well… what they don't know won't hurt them. Besides, they have tons of those things lying around, it's not like they're going to miss a few dozen pieces."

"Thank you, Edward. That was a… sweet gesture. Nothing says you care like stealing something."

"Your ass looks really good in those," he blurted out. His green eyes widened when he realized that he said it out loud. "I mean… shit, I'm sorry!"

"No worries, Edward. I'm not offended that you checked out my ass and I'll take it as a compliment. Thank you," I laughed. I had gotten used to his word vomit and found it pretty hilarious.

_Ha! I sound more confident than I actually feel. _

Truthfully, I was in complete amazement of myself when I hadn't been reduced to a giggling school girl or spewed my own word vomit like, _"Well, you're free to put your hands there anytime."_

"Uh… yeah, I like it… your costume! Not your, uh…" he stuttered, circling his hand in the general direction of my derrière. "Well, not that your… behind… isn't nice, it's just…" Edward let out a long breath and pinched the bridge of his nose. I tried very hard to keep my giggles to myself.

"Let me start over. I really like your costume; it's different from what I'm used to seeing every year," he said bashfully. He rubbed the back of his neck and refused to look my way lest he ends up saying something else about my body he didn't intend to verbalize.

"Thanks, uh, I'm gonna go change now," I told him, softly closing the door behind me. I hoped that the small distance would allow us to have an actual conversation. "Where are Alice and Rosalie? They were just out here."

"Al is giving Jasper shit for wanting to be a pimp for Halloween. And Rose is trying to convince Emmett that an oiled up Tarzan is not sexy."

"Have you decided what you're gonna wear? The party is only a few days away."

"I have no clue. Usually, I just show up in my football uniform, but Alice is badgering me to be a little more creative this year."

"Why not go as Clyde? I can be Bonnie. I'm curious to see what you look like in a suit." _And what you look like out of one_, I mentally added.

"Yeah, that sounds good!" He told me enthusiastically.

_Being naked? It sounds like a good time waiting to happen._

"Partners in crimes just like the old days. I'm gonna go find a fedora and a toy gun. I'll see you out there!"

Right, we were talking about costumes. Muted footsteps disappeared down the hall, leaving me with my thoughts. Partners in crime, I mused with a smile on my face. We both had a general dislike of Little Ali's makeovers, so we had avoided her as best we could when we were kids. Sometimes we had been caught escaping Alice's glittered prison and she would cry until we had given in and let her do what she had wanted. But, other times I could have sworn she had looked the other way with a smirk on her face.

Three days had passed in a blur and soon we were all standing in front of a brightly lit house. Actually it was more like a mansion because holy shit it had columns to hold up a balcony that also served as the porch roof. The entrance gate was five hundred feet in the opposite direction, the lawn and gardens were meticulously kept, and the mansion itself had three levels.

The tiny burlesque dancer known as Alice led the way, dragging Fireman Jazz behind her. Emmett, who we had dubbed as Officer Frisk Me all thanks to his cheap, plastic badge, tucked Rosalie into his side since she was dressed like she was due for a photo shoot with the pin-up edition of _Busty Blonds_. Edward guided me with a hand politely ghosting my lower back.

Compared to the cold temperatures outside, I felt like we had stepped into a furnace as soon as we crossed the threshold. In the sitting room, girls were giggling wildly, their boobs threatening to pop out of their tops if they didn't reel it in a little. Guys were busy eye fucking and sloppily groping the girly bits. Their proof of inebriation was sitting in their party ornaments – plastic, red Solo cups. It was barely nine o'clock and these people were hammered.

We walked further until we had reached where the music originated from. The entertainment room we had stumbled upon resembled one huge orgy; bodies grinded against bodies in the most sensual ways. With the way those coeds were writhing, one would think that the forbidden dance was comparable to the Macarena; it had nothing on the seductive dancing I was witnessing.

Directly in my line of sight was a girl dressed like the devil. I could tell right off the bat that she had no qualms with putting her body on display for the others to salivate over since the only things keeping her boobs from being fully exposed were red star pasties. She looked at the Hugh Hefner wannabe that was grinding on her ass like she was surprised by the likely boner in his pants. Hef struggled to keep his eyes open as they trained on her face. His mouth hung slightly open and looked about two seconds away from coming in his pants. With the way her red micro-mini was riding up and his robe hanging open, I wouldn't be surprised if they were actually fucking in front of all those people.

"Well, damn I feel overdressed," I stated lamely as I took in all the skimpy costumes the females wore.

Alice squealed and started to drag Jasper away. "Oh, my God, I love this song! We'll be right back!" She hollered, eager to show off her dance moves. I wasn't sure how she could manage to dance in five-inch heels, but I know that she would fare better than I would.

"I'm gonna go find us something to drink!" Rosalie yelled over the deafening music. Emmett trailed after the twenty-first century blond Betty Paige double, glaring at any man suicidal enough to look at Rose longer than a quick glance.

Edward and I stood awkwardly near the dance floor, trying our best to look like we fit in.

"Hi! You're cute," giggled a saccharine, bubblegum pink voice. I looked over to my left, immediately noticing a naughty nurse hanging all over Edward's arm. Her acrylic French-tipped nails dug into the pristine white, long-sleeve button down dress shirt he was wearing. The white nurse hat on her head was swallowed by her teased mass of curled blond hair. I supposed that she was pretty about an hour ago, when her makeup wasn't greasy and running in all directions.

_Girl, just move on and save yourself from embarrassment, he's not interested in what you're offering._

Irrational jealousy ran through my veins when Edward smiled my favorite crooked grin at her and mumbled his thanks. He was supposed to give her the brush off! I couldn't say anything, though; it wasn't my place. He wasn't mine to keep from whorish drunken vultures.

Maybe I _should_ have worn that referee costume; it seemed that Edward favored the stripper-esque style over modest. He said he liked my outfit, but he hasn't looked at my ass once tonight.

"I'm Makenna. What's your name?" She slurred, rubbing her gravity-defying double D fun bags on his arm. The irrational jealousy showed up on my face in the form of a deep scowl.

_Hello? Did she not notice that he comes part of a matching fucking set? I mean, I'm standing right next to him looking all Bonnie to his Clyde. Bitch…_

"Edward and this is, uh, my girlfriend, Bella."

_Well, that's more like it._

He shot me a look that begged me to play along. For show, so not to inflate his huge ego with my willingness, I reluctantly agreed to his request with a minute nod of my head. But, really, the butterflies were doing a number on my stomach with all the fluttering going on in there. Or maybe it was the sushi I had for lunch.

Makenna's reflexes were incredibly slow and I could have sworn that I had wasted ten minutes of my life just waiting for her to face me. A lazy smile appeared on her semi-glossy red lips as she introduced herself as 'Uh-Kenna.' Her acrylic nailed hand blindly searched out mine for a handshake.

"Doesn't beautiful mean 'Bella' in Italian?" She smiled; proud that she had remembered something a first grader knew. Soon, her smile turned into a frown as she pondered her words. "That didn't come out right, did it?"

"Um, no, not quite," I informed her, humorously. She struck me as sweet and a little air headed, but that could be the alcohol talking.

All pleasant thoughts about her were forgotten when she tugged on Edward's sexy ass suspenders and cupped her hand to his ear. She would make for an awful spy because I clearly heard what she was saying.

"I know some really weird guys who would want a chick like that. They could take her off of your hands for a while so that we could fuck… I'm like super horny and you're like… super hot," she whisper-yelled into my boyfriend's ear. Her hand was on his pinstriped pants, creeping south and preparing to grab his dick. Edward quickly moved away and stood behind me.

_Don't make me get all biblical on you, you shameless harlot, because I _will_ stone you to death! I'm painfully aware that Edward isn't my real boyfriend, but she doesn't. So, she doesn't have a right to offer herself up like a wanton whore in my presence._

"Then go fuck yourself, skank!" I snapped. "What makes you think that my boyfriend wants to sleep with you? You'd probably end up giving him gonorrhea!" I yelled angrily. Her raccoon eyes became wide and glassy while her chin quivered with a restrained sob.

"Why are you so mean?" She squeaked and then turned to walk towards Edward for comfort.

_Was this girl for real?_

"Listen, Makenna, why don't you go to the bathroom and freshen up a bit; splash some water on your face and take a few minutes to calm down," Edward suggested, playing diplomat. He was still using my body as a barrier in the event Uh-Kenna decides to play a little grab ass.

"And maybe quit the booze, it makes you unstable. But, then again you're probably unstable when you're sober, too," I snarked. I didn't feel remotely guilty for making that girl cry; she insulted me and I wasn't going to take that lying down. Black tears ran down her face as she stumbled away on her translucent hooker heels, sniffling and hiccupping.

"Well, girlfriend, now that I have the good nurse off of my nuts, why don't you come dance with your boyfriend?" Edward murmured. I shivered in his arms as his warm breath swept across the shell of my ear. The vibration of his low voice climbed down my body and settled in my vag. My knees buckled, but he caught me before I fell; I blamed it on my too-high stilettos and the slippery ceramic tile floor. However, we both knew that I was putty in his arms at the moment.

The thought of dancing with Edward, mimicking the foreplay on the makeshift dance floor, made my thighs clench in excitement; it took all my willpower to keep my legs from opening wide and inviting him in for an extended stay – audience be damned.

With eyes connected, we started off slow and shy, keeping to a safe distance and our hands to ourselves. Soon, though, the pulsing beat of the music and the sexual energy of the others all around us made it impossible for us to stay away from each other.

Edward grabbed my hips and spun me around. My back connected with his firm chest, his hands tightening around me. We grinded our hips slowly to our own beat, oblivious to the world around us. Even with four-inch heels on, Edward still had a good five inches on me, so he slouched low enough to run his nose behind the expanse of my ear. My head fell to the side in approval, hoping that he planned on doing more.

"You smell good," he mumbled into my over-heated skin. I fought the urge to moan as his soft lips trailed along my jaw. Holy fuck, this guy should come with his own warning. If he kept this up, we'd be dancing in a puddle.

"That's Bella!" A babyish voice cut through the lust-filled haze surrounding Edward and me. Uh-Kenna was pointing a fake nail in my direction. The blond bitch stood next to a beautiful dark-haired girl dressed as a dominatrix. I had a hard time believing that Makenna snitched on me and got her friend to do the dirty work.

It didn't take me long to pin that girl down. I've been around enough spoiled children of rich parents in high school to know that this girl hid behind social status and money. She assumed that she was better than me because she had grown up privileged; surrounded with money, servants to do her bidding, and the queen bee of her school. She didn't have to speak a word to me because I saw the disdain for my existence in her eyes, her sneer and the way she carried herself as she stalked over to me like she owned the place. For all I knew, she did own this place and was on her way to toss me out on my ass for insulting her hooker of a best friend.

Her long, wavy hair bounced as she strutted her way towards me. The way her eyes narrowed as she looked me up and down made me cower into Edward's body; she looked feral and I couldn't figure out why. There had to be more than my encounter with Makenna to explain the look of pure hate on her face.

"You're Bella, am I correct?" Her voice was low, sharp and icy. By then, the music had faded out into a whisper and a crowd had surrounded us. Alice and Jasper flanked Edward and me, showing us their support.

I nodded, wondering if that was the smart thing to own up to, but unwilling to show her any fear. Before I could react any further, she threw the entire contents of her red cup into my face - more Jack than Coke by the smell of it. I tried hard not to gag when the strong whiskey stench invaded my senses.

Jasper restrained Alice as she began to advance on the Domme; Alice was a good seven inches shorter than her and I feared that she would be squashed underneath the Domme's killer heels. Edward had taken to glaring at the woman, since he was a gentleman and refused to hit a girl, and making sure that I was alright.

With lightening fast reflexes, she dropped her cup on the floor and pulled her open palm back past her head. Like a confused drunkard unable to keep up with the rapid movement, I closed my eyes and waited for the impact.

"Touch her and I'll make sure you'll need a new set of teeth. Got it?" I heard Rosalie seethe. I opened my eyes to see Rose's pale, crimson-tipped fingers encircled tightly around the Domme's wrist, catching it mid-air away from my face. The girl may be clad in black leather and had an authentic whip as her trusty sidekick, but Rosalie was infinitely more intimidating.

They stood glaring at each other until Mistress Silverspoon spat in Rosalie's face. Unfortunately for the Domme, Rose retaliated almost without thinking about it, attempting to make good on her threat. The girl's head flew back from the strength behind Rose's punch and cried out in pain. The crowd erupted in a cacophony of whistles, shouts, laughter and wailing. Half of them were congratulating Rose and making sure I was alright, the other half was checking if Rose had knocked out any teeth.

"Party's over," Emmett declared, rushing us out the door. He didn't have to tell me twice, I wouldn't want to stay for the aftermath. Edward protectively wrapped his arm around me, guiding me through the crowd like my personal bodyguard. He was warm, he smelled so good and I had a very strong urge to lick his clean shaven jaw.

"Oh, my God, Gianna, what happened?" I heard above the noise level. There was something familiar about that voice.

_Gianna… why do I know that name? The Food Network chef, perhaps? No, that's Giada._

"Fuck you, asshole! Leave me alone!" She screeched at the top of her lungs.

"Thanks for having my back, Rose."

"No problem, Bella. Bitch deserved it," she answered, handing me a bottle of water and a towel she had swiped from the kitchen on our way out.

Alice and Jasper had already parted ways; she was staying the weekend with Jasper at his apartment, leaving the rest of us in Emmett's Range. Needless to say, Rose was spending the night at the Cullen's.

"Uh, Bella, do you mind if I stay with you tonight?" Edward whispered in my ear. My mind raced through different fantasies as my panties bordered on 'lost cause.' I looked up at him with wide eyes.

"I really don't want to listen to those two getting it on," He continued in a whisper. I felt him shudder in revulsion.

"No, I don't mind," I whispered back, peeking at him through my lashes; I kept my head down to prevent Edward from seeing my blush in the passing street lights. It wouldn't take a rocket scientist to know where my thoughts had headed.

And it didn't take a rocket scientist to know what he wanted. His eyes hypnotized me, darting between my eyes and my lips. Our heads moved closer as he licked his lips; I involuntarily did the same.

"Hey, hey, hey, no funny business back there," Emmett joked, watching us through his rearview mirror. Edward and I sprang apart like two horny teenagers caught making out on his parents couch.

Although it was only a little after ten o'clock, Rose and Em were ready for some alone time. Edward and I were not; we were wide awake and getting a little restless since it was early on Halloween night.

The enormity of the situation had finally hit me as we pulled into the garage. Edward was staying the night with me. Alone. Us. Together.

_Holy shit, this is gonna be a long night. Lord, please give me the strength to keep myself from jumping his bones like a whore._

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AN: And there you have it, chapter 16! What do you think? Sexy times ahead?

The next chapter will be a long one since it covers the rest of Halloween night, midterms, Thanksgiving and anything in between. My Disney annual pass has expired, so that means I'll have more oppotunities to actually do some writing in my free time since there will be no more impromtu trips to Disneyland for the remainder of the year.

A note about the Lego store: I'm not sure if all stores are the same, but usually there are stations filled with Lego pieces for kids to play around with.

The football and basketball seasons are around the corner, which teams are you rooting for? Personally, I love the Cowboys since L.A. doesn't have a football team. And it's purple and gold for life, baby!

Leave me some LOVE, your thoughts or your ideas...

Thanks for reading!


	17. Chapter 17

**Thank you for all the reviews, faves and alerts. Most of all, thank you for sticking with me throughout my shitty update schedule. **

**Now, I know I said that this chapter would be a monster, but I had decided to cut it down. The Thanksgiving portion of it just kept getting longer and I don't have the attention span to write/edit something like that. My cousin would probably agree with me when I say that I'm easily distracted by something shiny, pretty or colorful. All hope is lost when those three are combined. Oh, and cousin? You might want to skim a certain part of the story, it contains slight adult situations.**

**Please excuse my messy punctuation and grammar; I have a hard time concentrating at this point in my life.**

**Enjoy the chapter!**

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_Some family trees bear an enormous crop of nuts._  
- Wayne H.

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Remnants of Gianna's Jack and Coke concoction swirled down the drain as I worked on ridding my hair of whatever extra-strength gunk it was caked in; Alice had insisted on mega-hold hair products since the weight of my long hair had made it difficult to manage for the up-do style she had envisioned for me. Needless to say, I had repeated the 'wash, rinse, repeat if necessary' cycle numerous times before I had been satisfied enough to continue on with conditioner. I stood under the steady spray, letting the hot water and floral shower gel cleanse the horrible night away. It was the first and definitely the last college party I would attend… ever. What were the odds that my _first_ taste of the college experience would end in such an unsavory fashion? Only with my luck, I guess… Drama seemed to follow me around like a needy puppy perpetually wanting my attention.

Having already scrubbed my face clean of any trace amounts of makeup prior to my relaxing shower, I wrapped a towel around myself and skipped to my closet. You read that right – I skipped; Edward was staying the night with me and some parts of my body were very happy with that – particularly everything below my neck. I rummaged through the intimates and sleepwear section of my personal mall and pulled out a gray cotton nightie with an ivory lace trim. It was short, snug and a bit revealing. It was innocent yet undeniably sexy in that girl-next-door kind of way, and I knew that it was inappropriate for sleepovers with male friends of the platonic nature. For fear of coming off as trashy and uncouth as Nurse Makenna, I stuffed the nightie back into the depths of the cavernous drawer, holding onto the hope that I would have the opportunity to wear it for someone someday.

I, then, decided to not change a thing about my sleepwear. If skin made him uncomfortable, then he was free to screw himself.

_And if I'm lucky, he'll let me watch…_

Ultimately, though, I selected pajama pants and a matching loose-fitting camisole; they were the most innocent-looking pajamas I had. My regular sleepwear would have left me tempted to parade around in my nakedness as if it was a normal occurrence. Add in the fact that we would be alone tonight with zero anticipated disturbances and our behavior on the dance floor before we had been so rudely interrupted… well, that was definitely something sexy waiting to happen.

I berated myself for wanting to beautify myself with light makeup, sexy bed hair and a spritz of my raspberry body spray that he seemed to like so much. Edward was coming over to sleep in peace, to not be disturbed moans and grunts of Em and Rose (shudder), not be seduced by his horny friend. For all I know, he could have just wanted to go straight to bed. If that were the case, my agony over choosing the appropriate clothing was all for nothing.

The doorbell went off as I rolled my eyes at myself, thinking of my lack of equilibrium. Seducing him likely meant a trip to the ER for both of us – I'd probably knee him in the gonads before crushing his nose with my forehead. He'd be the hospital patient and I'd be the dumbass who put him there, holding an ice pack to his nuts.

"Get a grip, Bella!" I muttered to my reflection with narrowed eyes. My nipples were erect and straining against my screen-printed cupcake tank because on the other side of my front door stood the object of my lustful affections possibly looking extremely blow-worthy in his jammies.

Finally satisfied with my appearance, I walked out to the front door to let Edward in. It occurred to me that a sweatshirt would have been a better idea to hide my reaction because there he stood, looking GQ in a pair of black jersey knit pajama pants and a fitted plain white shirt. My heart started to beat a little faster and my irises dilated at the sight and smell of him. I was so screwed.

"Cute," he told me with a smirk, eyeing the various cupcake and swirl designs that inundated the navy blue background of my satiny pajama pants.

"Thanks…" _Wanna see what they look like on my bedroom floor?_

I couldn't decide on an emotion, was I happy or disappointed with his assessment? On one hand, if we both behaved due to the innocent nature of my sleep clothes, then there would be absolutely zilch to regret in the morning. On the other, he probably saw me as a ten-year-old girl who was fascinated by cute looking pajamas and not the eighteen-year-old who had a libido that probably rivaled his.

A drop of water fell from his freshly showered hair and onto his shoulder. My thoughts were sidetracked as I envisioned him standing in a steamy shower enclosure, stroking and moaning my name until he came all over the tiled wall. My fantasy warped, turning into what he could do to me if I were in there with him. I squirmed.

I snapped myself out of my stimulating thoughts of Edward doing dirty things to me with his tongue when he cleared his throat. He shifted in his place, uncomfortable under my scrutiny, but unwilling to remove his gaze from my chest. I followed his stare, finding out that my arousal was obvious and pointing in his direction. It was equivalent to my twin peaks holding up a gigantic sign that read 'TOUCH ME'! I didn't have the option to blame it on the cool hallway air because it was actually quite warm out there.

"Do you mind if I'm here? I understand if you don't feel up for it. I can just go back to my room and wear earplugs or something; of course I'd have to buy some first," he muttered under his breath. He stared at the floor dejectedly, his shoulders slightly slumped forward.

"Oh, sorry! Yes, come on in!" I exclaimed. He must have misconstrued my silence and staring as questioning his presence at my door at this time of night.

My eyes were glued to his delectable tush as I ushered him in, silently wondering if Edward was freeballing. I amended my earlier prayer to: _God, please tell me he isn't wearing anything under that. _Yep, I was screwed.

I took a deep breath, wiped the drool from my mouth and tore my eyes away from his firm backside, afraid that I would unconsciously feel him up or take a bite out of it. Both were very good options at the moment, he might even appreciate it, but I doubt I'd be able to look him in the eye afterwards.

"I was thinking… if you aren't too tired, maybe we could have a scary movie marathon in the spirit of Halloween?"

"Sure, what did you have in mind?" Apprehension laced my voice, praying it was something of American origin. I detested foreign horror movies with a passion after Tanya had forced me to watch the original Japanese version of _The Grudge_.

I had no problem watching American horror movies alone – even in the dark. The writers usually have this compulsive need to spell everything out, practically killing the mystery of the unknown with explanations and solutions in order tidy up the loose ends. Those movies don't leave anyone with much to think about since they never let the audience draw their own conclusions of what _could_ happen.

"Will you turn it off now, please?" I was face first in his chest, my eyes tightly shut and his arm draped around me – his yawn-and-stretch move had worked successfully. I may have spoken louder than I had intended because I also had my fingers in my ears to prevent any sounds from filtering in.

Edward had borrowed a pirated clean copy DVD of _Paranormal Activity _from a teammate – I was simultaneously praising and cursing it. The upside of watching a scary movie was I had a legitimate reason to snuggle into the crook of Edward's arm and hide my face in his chest warm, rock solid chest. _Mmm… he smells good._ I was inclined to think he may have planned this whole thing out, since he had a hard time fighting a content smile for most of the creepy movie. The downside to the movie was that I was now terrified to sleep in my own bed. Watching Katie being pulled out of hers had scarred me for life; I was going to tuck the ends of my comforter in between my mattress and box-spring as soon as I gathered enough courage to enter my bedroom or get off the couch. I think I had jumped the gun on claiming American horror movies were bullshit.

I felt the vibrations of his laughter rumble in his chest. Chancing a peek, I looked up at his face and saw that his amused emerald eyes were staring at me.

"What?" I asked, loudly. His lips were moving, but I couldn't make heads or tails of what he was saying. I fought him and lost when he made a move to extract my fingers from my ears.

"It's not that scary. Besides, I'm here to protect you from – what was that?" He gasped as his head snapped to the hallway that led to the bedrooms. I jumped in response and clutched his torso in a vice-like grip.

"Shut up! You're an ass!" I wailed. He jerked away from me when I started pinching and poking his sides. He laughed, dodging my attacks with ease. I was practically sitting on top of him when we both froze in terror. With wide eyes, we looked towards the guest bathroom, the place where sound had suddenly originated from; the shower was on. Edward mercifully stopped the movie and lifted me off of him.

"Oh, my god, there's a ghost in here! You brought it here, you and that stupid movie!" I hissed.

"Don't be ridiculous, there are no such things. There was probaby a spike in water pressure and it loosened a valve or something," he stated in courageous conviction. "I'll go check it out." With that he left me on the couch to investigate.

The faint sound of tinkling silverware caught my undivided attention. I whipped my head around, believing that I had seen something pop out from behind the wall in my peripheral vision. I sat rigidly on my couch cushion with my eyes permanently glued to the dining room doorway, waiting for something to come out and yell 'BOO!' Decidedly, I had come to the conclusion that my overactive imagination had teamed up with my ears and were playing cruel tricks on me; there were no instances of poltergeist activity before tonight and a movie wasn't going to change that. Nonetheless, I jumped off the sofa and ran into the bathroom, wanting to seek refuge in the safe haven of Edward's fearless presence.

However, the confused and slightly terrified look on his face made me rethink his macho fearlessness. His arms were crossed and he stared into the open stall.

"What's the matter?" I asked, going against my better judgment to stay ignorant of the situation.

"Shit! Give a guy a little warning next time!" He exclaimed after he had jumped ten feet away from me.

"Sorry," I snickered; temporarily forgetting the grief my bathroom fixture was giving us. "Is it the water pressure?"

"Uh, I have no idea… the sound stopped as soon as I got to he door. What I can't figure out, though, is how the inside of this thing is dry. I mean… you heard water, right? It couldn't have speed dried within a matter of minutes."

"I'm sure we were just hearing things," I stated, backing up as I was finishing my statement. I didn't believe a word I had uttered; obviously, neither had Edward since he had picked me up and thrown me over his shoulder before tearing his way out of the bathroom. He dropped me on the couch next to him.

Half an hour later, we were sitting quietly in the living room, unable to sleep. We had taken to watching the blank TV screen, unwilling to turn it on after he had mistakenly reminded me of Samara crawling out of the TV by showing me the other movies he had brought. I shivered, feeling my skin break out in goose bumps.

"You okay?" Edward asked, placing his arm around me.

"Yeah… I'm… can we do something else, something that doesn't involve scary movies or ghosts?"

_I can think of one or two things that don't involve the paranormal – clothing isn't required._

"How 'bout I teach you how to defend yourself? Tanya may have taught you how to throw a punch, but she didn't really do much in the way of defense."

"I know how to do that, thank you very much, Tanya taught me well." I was a little miffed that he doubted my abilities to defend myself.

"Oh, okay… so, standing there waiting to get wailed on was all part of your master plan?"

"You know what? Shut up. I was a little preoccupied with the fact that a bitch I had never met actually had the nerve to throw a drink in my face."

He persuaded and I caved.

And that was how we had ended up on the floor as a panting, sweaty mass of tangled limbs. I wore a triumphant smile on my face as I held his tired body down with mine. He was faced down beneath me, my knee digging into his back and his hands pinned in front of my knee.

He had felt uncomfortable throwing punches at me, so we had settled on escape techniques in which he would grab me from various positions and I would try to get out of his grasp. Somehow, it had turned into a lesson in takedown techniques. Out of the dozen or so exercises, the last was the only time I had managed to take him down without accidentally kicking him in the family jewels first – I needed the knowledge just in case my attacker was female and lacked certain genitalia needed to really make it hurt. He was exhausted from pinning me into submission numerous times; I had never gone down without a fight.

"You know," I started, moving into an sitting position on his ass, "I think you just wanted me on top, Cullen. You gave up way too easily," I teased with a ridiculously goofy grin on my face. I was tempted to demand he turn over so I could grind myself into his lap.

"Alright, you caught me; I just wanted an excuse to touch you," he smirked as he easily rolled us over. His muscled body was completely stretched out over mine. His thigh was wedged in between my legs and I couldn't help but rub up against him. Edward's face was inches from mine with my wrists engulfed in his large hand above my head. His left forearm held him up, preventing me from entirely feeling the weight of his body.

"If you wanted to touch me, all you had to do was ask." My voice took on a husky tone I didn't know I possessed. My head inched off the plush carpet, getting closer by the millisecond to Edward's soft-looking lips.

I was eager to finish what we had started on the dance floor. Our lips came together, softly melding against one another in a slow, searing kiss. His soft, wet tongue probed my lips and my mouth opened in an automatic response, granting him permission to enter. The energy between us thrummed throughout my body, making my senses perk up and become sensitive to every little touch and every breath he had expelled onto my skin. I felt it from the tips of my toes to the very ends of my hair.

Our bodies heated up further as our moans turned into groans and our groans turned into desperate cries to be fully satisfied. Our kisses grew frantic and needy; our tongues were sliding against one another, fighting for dominance. Edward settled between my thighs, steadily grinding into me. My left leg was bent, my foot firmly planted on the floor, while my right had wrapped itself around him. We were dry humping on my living room floor, but I couldn't muster an ounce of shame. I could feel everything through our thin sleep clothes, but it wouldn't be enough until we were both as naked as the day we were born.

I growled in frustration as I struggled against the iron grip of his hands on my wrists. I needed to touch him, to take the _hands-on_ approach while I studied those defined lean muscles in his arms, back and abs. Most of all, I wanted confirmation that his ass was as firm as it looked.

He shifted his body to one side to get a better angle, never leaving the comfort in between my legs. His hand finally left my wrists to explore my writhing form. His smoldering emerald eyes stared down at my face, watching my reactions to his touch.

First, his cupped hand slid down my neck, his thumb gently grazing my collar bone. His hand dragged the top of my tank underneath my breasts. I was elated that I had decided to forgo a bra. I was exposed to him for the first time. He tentatively brought his large had to rest in the valley of my breasts; my nipples hardened further, begging to be touched. My moans of approval spurred him on, making his actions bolder and his cock more insistent on pulverizing the lightweight fabric between us. He gently squeezed my breast and made me buck my hips when he pinched a sensitive, straining nipple. He brought his lips over a hardened peak and sucked; my eyes rolled back as I let out a loud moan. I felt him smirk against me. I yelped out in surprise when he gently bit the hardened nub and then soothed it with his tongue.

His mouth stayed on my chest, licking and nibbling while alternating between each breast while his hand slowly descended towards my stomach, continuing his exploration. I almost jumped out of my skin when I felt his calloused hand caress the smooth area of bare skin beneath my belly button. My lower half clenched and tingled with anticipation. It had been a long while since I had experienced pleasure from something other than my fingers.

There were times when I sincerely missed Bob, my purple Battery Operated Boyfriend Tanya and Kate had given to me for Valentine's Day this year. I had accepted the gift with a scarlet face, not because I had been embarrassed, but because they had encouraged me to open it up in front of Riley.

"Just in case lover boy can't get the job done," Tanya had said sweetly with a sneer in his direction. It was no secret that Tanya was barely tolerant of my boyfriend after Riley and I had a little lovers spat, but she saw that he had made me happy and managed to keep things civil… most of the time.

I left Bob back in Phoenix; could you imagine my embarrassment if I had asked my mother to pack my rabbit? And letting TSA peek into my personal life with their x-ray machines was not an option. I supposed I could buy one online if I didn't feel comfortable picking one out in person, but to be honest, buying sex toys for myself just felt… odd.

He looked up at me with his mouth still latched onto my breast and his eyes dark with want as his hand slid lower to cup my sex. My hips bucked into his hand when he started to run a finger up and down the seam of my pants.

My hands moved from his slightly damp hair to dig my nails into his back as his fingers confidently rubbed my damp crotch. I was so worked up that I was sure to come from the over-the-clothes groping.

I whimpered at the loss of his mouth on my breast, but rejoiced with a moan when he started kissing and sucking on a pulse point in my neck.

"Mmm… shirt… off…" I mumbled; he immediately obeyed. I licked my way up his pecs and swirled my tongue around his Adam's apple.

I was shaken to the core in the most delicious way when a talented finger made firm contact with my clit.

"Oh, god, please…" I begged brazenly. I panted heavy breaths into his neck. I was more than ready and willing to round the bases with him – repeatedly. Screw my hesitancy about taking things slow and starting out as friends first. I wanted him and judging from the steel rod pressed up against me, he wanted me as well.

I flicked my tongue on his earlobe before sucking it into my mouth and nibbling on it. He groaned when I tentatively stuck my tongue in his ear, his dick becoming more unrelenting to find gratification. I snaked my hand between our bodies and into his pants; I was filled with this urgent need to touch him. He was thick, long and throbbing... and definitely going commando. Edward let out a low guttural groan as I grasped his smooth, thick cock in my hand and stroked him, paying special attention to the head. I swiped my thumb at the head of his cock, using his precum for lubricant. He started thrusting into my hand, mumbling into my neck incoherently.

His finger stopped rubbing my clit only to pull at the waistband of my pajama pants.

"Fuck, you're so wet for me," he growled, boldly running his fingers over my soaking wet panties.

"Ugh…" I mumbled unintelligently, rocking my hips against him. His hand crept towards the elastic band of my panties. "Fuck… touch me," I whimpered. He exhaled a heavy breath and then he did the most unbelievable thing…

HE STOPPED!

_What. The. FUCK?_ _No!_

"Bella, fuck…" he groaned as I had yet to stop pumping his cock. "Bella… stop," he panted into my neck, pulling my hand out of his pants.

"Why?" I whined.

"I… I can't… it shouldn't be… it's all wrong, we can't…" he stuttered, frantically searching my eyes for understanding.

I'm sure my face clearly displayed the hurt and rejection because there was no way I could recover quickly from that statement. Regardless of my position, my back flat on the floor, I felt my body slump in defeat. I turned my head to keep him from seeing the tears form in my eyes. Of course it's wrong, why would he even want me like that? Apparently, I'm good enough to fuck in his dreams, but not in real life.

"Bella, that… that wasn't…"

"Just let me go, Edward."

"No, Bella," he said firmly, pulling me into a sitting position. He kneeled beside me, an arm wrapped around my shoulders to prevent my escape, and put a finger under my chin to coax a glance out of me. I shook my head from him, feeling all kinds of humiliated for putting myself out there and a bit petulant for not getting my way. After that huge blow to my ego, I wasn't in the mood to hear him lecture me about why it wouldn't work.

"I'll see you in the morning." I took off towards my room, extremely intent on locking myself in for the remainder of the night.

"Please, let me explain," he asked, placing a hand on my shoulder. I was already half in the doorway to my bedroom, but couldn't stand to hear the distressed pleading in his voice. I gave in and turned around, waiting for him to explain.

"You're a good girl, Bella. You deserve to be cherished and taken care of. You don't deserve to be taken advantage of on your living room floor and… Please, just… I really suck with words and don't really know where I'm going with this because I can barely think straight at the moment. Please, don't give up on me yet. I'm going to do things right, Bella, I promise."

Like a perfect gentleman leaving me at my front door after a pleasant date, he kissed my cheek and whispered his goodnight before turning to leave; retreating to the guest bedroom and the cold bed he had waiting for him.

As reluctant as I was to admit it, Edward had been right to stop whatever it was progressing to. There wasn't a single condom in the place because I really hadn't anticipated sex in the near future. And second, I was no longer on birth control since I really suck at remembering to take a pill every single day. What would we have done in the heat of the moment? Used the pull-out method? I shuddered at the consequences of such stupidity. I loved kids and saw myself starting a family in the future, but I wouldn't be ecstatic if Edward and I had a baby within the next year.

Despite that, I still had pondered that question I had swirling in my mind as I took my last midterm the following Tuesday: _What did he mean by doing things right?_

I hadn't had the opportunity to ask Edward about it since we were busy prepping for exams. Everyone had been in cram mode; Emmett had camped out at the Odegaard Library, missing out on Sunday and Monday night football at my place. I had spent a whopping grand total of four hours, dedicating myself to refreshing my mind on course material that didn't pertain to math, while I had spent the rest of Sunday and Monday studying for my Algebra midterm.

My philosophy and English exams had been a walk in the park; it had been multiple choice exams with a few short essay questions. Creative writing had been fairly easy; listing and defining five examples of figurative language, types of narration, the type of narration and general plot of the listed short stories, etc.

On Wednesday, Huskies football had a home game; they had kicked Stanford ass, so the whole team, including their girlfriends and groupies, had decided to celebrate. Without the distractions of studying, I had found myself cooking up different theories as motivations for Edward's questionable explanation. Was he fixing to get a nice hotel room to fuck in? Was he planning on something cheesy for our first time: red rose petals scattered around a candlelit room with mood music playing in the background? Maybe he wanted to act out one of my fantasies and was just working up the courage to ask me. I had scoffed at those ideas. With the way he had me worked up, I wouldn't have minded if we had ended up having sex in my living room – the carpet was soft and if I got off, then I'm sure I wouldn't have minded the rug burns.

I hadn't seen Edward for the rest of the week. Perhaps he had only said those things to placate me and didn't intend on following through with what had started between us. Maybe he had been avoiding me, giving the situation a little time to blow over.

By the next week, my Edward induced funk had dissipated and I had been at an all-time high; I had aced my first three exams.

Professor DeSantos had an out-of-state emergency, leaving Tyler in charge of lectures for the next week. We had all been antsy throughout the lecture, each of us sparing glances at the box which held our blue books. The professor loved to create anxiety in her pupils; while the rest of my professors had posted midterm grades online as soon as possible, she preferred to create unnecessary suspense by withholding our results until the last possible minute. The class period had gone by swiftly, yet we got next to nothing done. Tyler had been gracious enough to answer questions and fully explain the steps taken to the correct conclusion; something our beloved professor loathed doing.

According to her, we were mature college students and shouldn't expect to be coddled. If we needed further clarification we should feel free to consult our textbooks or the tutoring center.

A stampede of students barreled through the aisles, determined to get to that box first. I stood on the outskirts of a rapidly thinning crowd rummaging through a box of blue books; we had used Scantrons to fill in our answers, but the work had to be shown in the blue books. There were many more groans of frustration than excited squeals. I walked slowly towards the box, cautionary in my stride like I was evaluating and disarming a ticking time bomb.

"I got a B+?" I was counted amongst those few squeals. It wasn't my usual A, but I'd take what I could get.

"Congratulations!"

"Thank you, thank you, thank you, I couldn't have done it without you. And really, I'm not just saying that!" I hugged Tyler as tight as possible, unable to keep myself from jumping at the same time. "How about we have a celebratory lunch? I'm buying."

"Actually, I'm meeting with Gianna soon. She wants to talk about some things." He gave me a slight smile.

"Gianna?" I asked, wondering if it was true about what they say about a small world. Could Gianna King: Ex-Fiancée, be the same girl who had thrown a drink in my face?

"Uh, yeah…Look, I want to apologize for her behavior at the party. She isn't usually like that. She had a lot of pent up energy and frustration and I guess she was just looking for a fight. I'm really sorry about that." Evidently, she was.

"It's okay, no harm, no foul. Although, I think it would be wise to suggest that she keep out of Rosalie Hale's sight if she wants to keep her own teeth."

"I'll pass the message along," he chuckled. "See you Thursday, Bella. Call me if you have trouble with the homework." With that he left me to my own devices.

After I was sure he had been out of ear shot, I twirled around while jumping in place and let out a peal of laughter. If I kept up my tutoring sessions with Tyler and my dedication to all things math, I just may pass the course. I would gouge my eyes out if I had to take it over.

The week of Thanksgiving had finally arrived. Students and faculty alike were scrambling to get their last minute holiday plans together. Because of that, professors had been lax, thankfully granting us a much needed reprieve from our tedious lesson plans. Well, all professors save for one – Grace DeSantos, math's number one evil witch. Since three-fourths of her class had done horribly on the midterm, she had found it necessary to tack on extra review work onto the current Thanksgiving weekend workload.

Her students, especially those who had received grades above a C-, had given her various renditions of the stink eye, myself included.

Usually, extra work wouldn't faze me if it ended up helping me in the long run, but I didn't want to think about completing a ½ inch packet while I was spending time with my family.

Philosophy and English classes had been cancelled on Wednesday, so the instructors could get a jumpstart on their holidays. I spent my free time on getting through the math problems; by Sunday, I was only expecting to review my work. When the numbers began to dance on the page and various decimals points mysteriously disappeared, I figured it was time to tidy up the condo and help Esme prepare for the Thanksgiving feast.

She and Carlisle had arrived on Tuesday night with their luxury SUV packed full of groceries. It was my understandings that Renee had offered up the condo as the social holiday watering hole; it seems that Renee and Esme had been buddy-buddy long enough to exchange emails, phone calls and combine holiday celebrations.

"Arrgghhh!" Someone screeched after the front door had slammed shut. Rosalie stormed into the kitchen with a sympathetic Alice in tow. The front door had been left unlocked due to the high traffic between the Cullen's and my condo. She hopped up on the counter and began peeling a potato in angry short strokes while muttering under her breath.

"Bad day?" Esme asked worriedly, taking the spud and peeler away from Rose.

Rosalie huffed in annoyance, crossing her arms across her chest, before finally breaking her silence. "I just got off the phone with my sperm donor. I was informed that I was spending Christmas in L.A. with _his_ family. He said that he had already cleared it with Uncle Peter since Aunt Charlotte didn't give two shits about where I was during the holiday. Oh, and then he thought that bribing me with a shopping spree was enough to buy my love… or compliance," she scoffed. Esme, Alice and I stared at her, unbelieving at how fast the words came out of her mouth. "As if there was enough merchandise on Rodeo to keep me happy about staying with his new family. Fucking cradle robber…"

"Cradle robber?" I asked. I seemed to be the only one who was clueless as to why she would refer to her father like that.

"He dumped the chick he ran off with after he found out that his barely-twenty-year-old secretary was pregnant. That was two years ago."

"Damn… Wait a minute, you're over eighteen. You can spend the holidays wherever you please," I said.

"True. But, the Cullens will be heading to Chicago and hanging out in L.A. has to be better than spending time in a cabin down in Vail, Colorado or wherever the fuck they wanted to go this year, cleaning up Aunt Charlotte's eggnog vomit on Christmas Eve. Jasper was on vomit duty last year in Anchorage; it's my turn this year, so, yeah, I'd rather go to Los Angeles. But he could have at least fucking asked me what I wanted instead of arranging it behind my back. Sorry, Esme," she added when she received a reproachful look for her language.

"So, what are you going to do?" Alice asked.

"I guess I'm meeting my new little brother in December, but as of right now, that isn't even the worst of it." Rosalie buried her face in her hands. Alice's features were a cross between annoyed and disgusted. _Hmm… tired of Rose's predisposition to overreacting?_

"Jasper's dad called. They canceled their trip to New York and they're driving down tomorrow morning!"

"I'm sure it won't be as bad as you think it will be," I comforted her.

"Clearly you haven't had to share a meal with Charlotte Whitlock," Alice supplied, dryly. _Ahh, so the disdain was for the upcoming situation._

"She's the most egotistical and opinionated woman I had ever met in my life! She's uncouth and doesn't know when to shut the hell up, even when someone tells her, point blank, to shut the hell up," Rosalie exclaimed.

"It's true," Esme declared emphatically. We were stunned that Esme had agreed with Rose's negative description. "What? It is!" She exclaimed, taking in our gaping mouths.

"Alright, Mom, spill," her tiny daughter demanded.

"Now, now, you know I'm not one to gossip… but I really don't like her. No offense, Rosalie."

She snorted, "Definitely no offense taken."

"I'll tell you one thing, that woman is unquestionably self-centered. There was an impromptu charity event that benefitted breast cancer research earlier this year and all she did was complain that she had to cancel her week-long cruise to the Caribbean to be there with her husband. I mean, really, was she looking for sympathy? My God! There were people whose lives had been turned upside down because of breast cancer and all she had cared about was getting a tan and sipping mimosas!"

"Uh, Esme," I gently reached out to stop her hands from moving. The potato had been reduced to a fry, the peels littered the countertop.

"Oh! I'm sorry! It's just that she's so, so, bit—"

"Hello, hello! Need some help ladies?" Emmett grinned from the doorway. Edward and Jasper peeked from behind Em's massive body. A quick glance at the digital clock told me that it was half past noon; time for their feeding.

"Em, these things are all raw. I don't think you'd be able to snack on them without running to the bathroom every ten minutes," Alice snarked.

"Oh, is it lunchtime already?" Jasper asked innocently, sliding his eyes over to the microwave clock.

Esme rolled her eyes and chuckled. "Bella, there should be a clear blue pan of marinated chicken in your fridge, do you mind getting that for me?" she asked, pulling a bag of tortillas from the pantry.

"Fajitas?" Edward asked excitedly, pushing his way past Emmett to peer into the pan I was holding. He was nearly salivating at the seasoned raw chicken. Things were odd between us; this was the closest he had stood next to me in weeks. Don't get me wrong, he still spoke to me, but conversations were no longer witty, vivacious or lengthy. It was all small talk, nothing of substance. Granted, I had been busy with studying and projects while he had been busy with football (home and away games) and keeping up with his full load of classes. So, I couldn't really fault him for his silence.

"Em, honey, do you mind waking you father?"

"He's already up watching a _Grey's_ marathon."

"Okay, go and tell him lunch will be ready in fifteen minutes. You two boys please wash up and start cutting those vegetables. Jasper, will you still be joining us for Thanksgiving dinner or do you have plans with your parents?" It was clear from her earlier behavior that Rosalie would be having dinner with us by any means necessary.

"Yes, ma'am, I'll be here. Uh…" he hesitated, "Mom wants to know if it would be okay for her and Dad to come to dinner."

"Yeah, except she wasn't very polite about it, right?" Rosalie snorted. "I believe her exact words were 'tell Esme to set two more plates because we'll be in town.' That woman's civility decreases every time her bank balance increases," she scoffed. Jasper's face burned with a dark shade of pink, embarrassed by his mother's blatant rudeness.

"Well," Esme cleared her throat, "better start chopping; we're feeding an army tomorrow," she chirped happily. However, if one were to look closely, one might be able to see the slight twitch in her eye and the casual flattening of her lips. I knew that Mrs. Whitlock's request didn't sit right with Esme since she was the poster girl for prim and proper – even if her offspring lacked those qualities.

"What time does your mother's flight get in sweetie?"

"Around ten, they're flying over after Phil's game."

"What game? What are we talking about?" Emmett asked re-entering the kitchen. "Dad's gonna take a quick shower and he'll be right over."

"My mom, Phil and Soph are flying up after Phil's game."

"Oh, what does he play?" He didn't look very interested in the answer considering most of his attention was focused on the skillet and the sizzling chicken. He looked as if he wished he could shoot lasers out of his eyes to cook the food faster.

"Football," I said, noticing Em's ears perk up along with Edward's and Jasper's. "He's a receiver for the Cardinals." Three pairs of eyes bugged out comically. Alice giggled and Rose shook her head, muttering something about boys and their unhealthy obsession with sports idols.

"PHIL DWYER? YOUR DAD IS PHIL DWYER?" Esme threw a piece of celery at Emmett's forehead, silently warning him about the volume about his voice.

"He's my _step-dad_," I retorted defensively and, admittedly, a little angrily. I didn't mean any disrespect, but no matter how many years went by, Charlie Swan would always and forever hold that title – Dad.

"Alright, alright, sorry…" He held his hands up in surrender, not wanting to cause tension in the kitchen. "Why didn't you tell me that you were related to him?"

"Because it never really came up and it isn't something I broadcast regularly."

"Bella, can you finish cooking the chicken please? I need to run to the store, I forgot to buy heavy cream and demi-glace… and it looks like we'll need another loaf of bread… maybe some flour and sugar as well. There is no way I'm setting foot inside of a grocery store tomorrow," Esme mumbled on her way out.

"What's he like?" Jasper asked, resting his elbows on the counter next to me. Shock and awe painted his face like a rabid fangirl in the immediate presence her favorite actor. They thought of him like some hometown hero; in my opinion, I surmise that he was.

Phil had spent his first eighteen years of his life in a nice suburban home in Bellevue, Seattle's neighboring city. He had received a football scholarship from Texas A&M and was discovered by an NFL scout in his junior year. He had been lucky enough to play with the Seattle Seahawks for the first two years of his pro football career before being traded to the Arizona Cardinals and making a name for himself.

Since his start with the Cardinals he had become heavily involved with charities and causes. He was a spokesman for the ONE Campaign and it had become a tradition to participate in the AIDS Walk in Phoenix as well as contribute yearly donations to St. Jude's Research Hospital. He and Renee had also taken joy in giving Christmas gifts to children who had to spend their holidays confined to an uncomfortable hospital bed.

Many football stars would rather have amassed daunting wealth and spent it like there was no tomorrow rather than donate to worthy causes to help those less fortunate. Reflecting on Phil's saint-like qualities, I could fully understand why these boys were so enamored with my step-father. Also, his speed and ability to gain yards, as well as rushing touchdowns, made him a SportsCenter highlight-reel favorite.

I was nervous as the boys were watching me with rapt attention, prepared to hang on to my every word with their bug eyes and gaping mouths. Their hopes were high for my praise; one negative comment could send then hurtling into confusion and denial. It's a good thing I had nothing but positive things to say. "He's, uh… nice." I stated.

They all blinked in confusion. "That's it?" was the collective question.

"Well, I'd be able to think more clearly if you all weren't breathing down my neck for a response!"

"Sorry," they murmured, backing away to allow me to have my three feet of personal space.

"Phil's a good man; caring, protective, generous, fair… He treats Soph like a princess and me like one of his own, not like a burden or complication. And Renee like a queen. His family is the center of his universe. He refuses to answer personal questions about family when the media is involved. He's the reason why my face hadn't been splashed all over the TV and gossip magazines. Can you imagine the story 'Daughter of Slain Cop Residing in Dwyer Home' in the sports segment of the nightly news? Not to mention the follow-up questions and stories regarding my parents' divorce and Renee's subsequent desertion. He kept it simple by saying that I was Renee's daughter from a previous marriage, he refused to go beyond that and the journalists were none the wiser, thinking that there was no juicy story behind it."

The questions continued for a short time before they broke off into excited chatter; Edward had suggested that they play a game of touch football tomorrow afternoon to work up an appetite.

"Well, you guys better pray for dry weather because it is _really_ coming down out there," Rose mused, staring out of the kitchen window. That seemed to put a damper on their moods.

"Practice isn't until Monday morning, so he'll be here until Sunday afternoon. You guys can hang with him if you don't get to play." I had to tell them something to make them happy; their sullen faces were a bit pathetic, to be honest. Their faces lit up even further when I announced that lunch was ready. Geez, you'd think that they were seven years old and I just told them we were taking an extended vacation to Disneyworld.

Esme returned almost two hours later complaining about the crowded grocery store and an altercation with an irate mother of five. Esme had swiped the last bag of flour while the woman had been distracted, yelling at her kids for sneaking junk food into the cart while her head had been turned. The argument had escalated so much so that the store manager had to be called to mediate. When the lady hadn't come out as the victor, she and her five unruly children had left the cart full of food in the middle of the aisle and stormed out the automatic sliding doors.

Five hours and one more trip to the grocery store later, everything had been cubed, chopped, sliced, shredded, seasoned and marinated. We were cooking a feast for only thirteen people, but the guys, Phil and Carlisle ate like growing teenage boys… so, yeah it took us a while to finish. Plus, The Three Stooges, also known as Emmett, Edward and Jasper, kept screwing up and wasting ingredients; hence, the extra trip to the neighborhood grocer as punishment.

Our dinner consisted of delivery pizza and had turned into a mini homework session; I wasn't the only one who had been assigned some work. Carlisle and Esme had retired early, at nine o'clock; they were both waking at the ass crack of dawn to start cooking. By nine-thirty, the study group had migrated to the Cullen place as I had to leave to meet my family at the airport.

Baggage claim was a nightmare as it is with every holiday, but as soon as we had gathered their luggage we hustled it out of there forthwith. Phil and Soph had one Tumi suitcase each while Mom had four – three of which were practically empty. I gave her an incredulously questioning look.

"Those aren't gonna be empty when we go home, you know," she had quipped. Right, Black Friday. I was dreading it; my mother had supernatural stamina when it came to shopping. As long as she had on her sneakers and someone to hold all the bags, she could go on for hours without a single complaint.

We were back to our previous relationship, before the whole "withholding information" debacle. We swept it under the rug, but knew it was there. We didn't dare to say anything about it for fear of another fight or estrangement.

We got to the Escala in record time. Sophia would be staying with me in my room while Mom and Phil would take the guestroom. I really didn't want them doing the nasty in my room let alone on my bed. I was fond of the soft mattress and the four-post bed frame; I would hate to see it up in flames when I burned it for being tainted with bodily fluids from my oversexed parents. If you had seen the way they were groping each other in the backseat, there would be no question about whether they still vigorously banged their headboard against the wall. It was the reason why I had driven as fast as legally possible. Sophia threw up in her mouth a little and I turned up the radio to keep Renee's giggles from reaching my ear.

Since my little sis had a pesky habit of kicking in her sleep, I let her have the bed while I slept on an uncomfortable air mattress. I drifted off to sleep, thinking about the long and likely interesting dinner ahead of us. The future was never certain, I knew that. But, there was one thing I knew for sure: Charlotte Whitlock was going to make this a Thanksgiving to remember.

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**It's still 11:00 here in L.A., so I did uphold my promise of posting the chapter on Thursday... the time was a little off though.**

**If you notice any discrepancies in the timeline or information, please let me know so I can correct it.**

**For the record, I don't condone DVD piracy. One, it's illegal (duh). And two, they hardly come with all the fun extras.**

**Samara is a character from _The Ring_.**

**SportsCenter is an ESPN program, the name says it all.**

**Oh, and does anyone watch Supernatural? Loved the last episode! It was affectionately entitled "Live Free or Twi-hard"; they poked fun at Twilight. It's hilarious. I think they got the acting down to a T.**

**So, up next will be Thanksgiving Day, dinner and Black Friday. I've found that I work well and faster under a deadline, so the next update will be mid November. If I don't update by then, you all have my permission to flood my inbox with threats and complaints.**

****Reviewers get a sneak peek into Tanya's personality, a little preview of her attitude when she visits Seattle. ****I'm on twitter: unLuckky13. Read update statuses on AAoC, my rants, and other useless things.** twifangirldc - remind me that I owe you two outtakes ;)**

**I think that's it...**

**Thanks for reading! **


	18. Chapter 18

**I know, I know... a month and a couple weeks late. My bad. Holidays this year are _still_ kicking my ass. The ass kicking won't be over until January 24th; the end of a Vegas wedding weekend with my alcohol-loving family. **

**Thank you for coming back and reading. I would also like to thanks everyone who read, reviewed and alerted. I really do smile when I receive any kind of email FF sends me on my little BB. I (heart) you girls... and guys?**

**It's unbetaed... as always...**

**Enjoy!**

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**Hate is too great a burden to bear. It injures the hater more than the hated.**  
_- Coretta Scott King_

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I woke to the sound of clanging pots, laughter and the smell of freshly brewed coffee. Judging from the wide open door and the cold rumpled sheets, Sophia had gotten up a while ago. Rolling off my now-deflated air mattress, I stretched out and went in search of some name brand acetaminophen for my back pain and the horrible kink in my neck; an unfortunate consequence of spending the night on flocked vinyl. Tonight, I'd be sleeping on the couch.

I was sure my hair resembled a rat's nest and there were sleep wrinkles deeply embedded in my face, yet I couldn't have given two shits as I clumsily stumbled into a kitchen full of people at 8:45 in the morning. _Damn early risers…_

"Good morning, sunshine. How'd you sleep?" Renee questioned, smiling from behind her ruby red glass mug.

I grunted and mumbled something unintelligible as I dragged my feet towards the Holy Grail otherwise known as the glass carafe which held life's elixir, AKA my favorite chocolate truffle flavored coffee. The cream-infused hot liquid settled comfortably in my empty stomach, causing me to let out a sigh of contentment. "Good morning," I greeted pleasantly. They all sniggered before happily returning the sentiment while I retrieved a bottle of pain relievers from a drawer next to the fridge.

I felt like an ungrateful lazy ass as I settled into a high chair at the island and watched the flurry of activity around me. But, I knew that I'd be useless to them if I didn't let the caffeine perk me up first. Phil and Carlisle were using their meager organizational skills to fix the chaos that covered every inch of the counters. Sophia and Emmett were arguing over who was going to stuff the turkey; neither had been willing to stick their hands inside of a dead bird – even if it had already been cleaned out. Renee and Esme were hammering out last minute details for the rest of the weekend while getting a chunk of beef ready for roast. Alice left to sort through the various sets of dinnerware Renee had stored in the dining room cabinet, fully intent on mixing and matching. Edward climbed onto the seat next to me and slid a warm cheese Danish with a side of strawberries my way.

"You should really eat something if you plan on taking those," he said, motioning towards the hand still clutching the Tylenol bottle. I agreed with him; Nurse Kate would be horrified and would have given me an hour long lecture if I had taken medication on an empty stomach.

I moaned delightfully when the melt-in-your-mouth pastry touched my tongue. My eyes opened to see Edward staring at my mouth with a hint of longing. I looked around, noticing the generic pink bakery box which once held the delicious pastries peeking over the top of the trash bin. It was my turn to stare longingly; I was really hoping for a second serving.

"Want some?" I offered, but not really meaning it. I lifted a forkful to Edward's mouth and waited for him to wrap his lips around it. Although I would have been content to keep it for myself, I was not a greedy bitch and was brought up to share… even if I really didn't want to.

He declined, citing that he was full. I didn't believe him, but I didn't argue either. My fork hit the dessert plate with a clank as I savored the last piece, a satisfied sigh leaving my lips.

Before I had a chance to climb off the chair to go in search of water, Edward had placed a bottle in front of me along with two red extra-strength tablets.

"Thanks," I groaned from being reminded of my dull aches. Edward noticed my discomfort as I rolled my neck around to ease the cramps that had taken up residence there. His hands were immediately on my shoulders while his thumbs rubbed firm circles into the base of my neck.

"Oh, god, that feels good," I mumbled, resting my cheek against the cool granite countertop.

"You slept on that mattress so Edward would loosen up those tense muscles, didn't you. Sneaky," my little sister snorted. My hand blindly searched for the remaining strawberries on my plate. I grabbed one and, without opening my eyes, threw it in the general direction of her voice.

"Hey! I didn't say anything! I thought that it was actually cute!"

"Sorry, Mom," I muttered, sluggishly popping one eye open. Edward's magic fingers were lulling me into a dreamland where clouds were cotton candy fluffs and it rained Skittles. It was amazing that those same fingers had ignited a blaze within me that had me begging to get closer on Halloween night. I wished we could stay in our little bubble for the rest of the day.

"Oh, what a darling little place. Honey, we should buy a condo in this building!" I heard a voice trill after a slamming door. I should have known by now that wishes rarely come true. Charlotte Whitlock was here to hack through our holiday induced blissful bubbles with a dull machete nine hours earlier than we had expected.

"Mom, you can't just go opening up doors! You don't even know the person who lives here!" I heard Jasper complain.

"Oh, sure I do, it's Brittany something. Her father used to be the police chief in Forks before he died. What was his name… oh, right Charlie Shaw."

Was this woman aware of how loud she was? Or that she was an idiot?

"ACTUALLY," Rosalie spoke loudly, "I believe the people you were referring to were _Bella_ and Charlie _Swan_."

"Oh, shut up. Nobody was talking to you. If I wanted your input I would have asked for it," Charlotte retorted harshly. Rosalie's reply was to stomp her way into the kitchen and plop down in a chair next to me.

"Your aunt seems like a pleasant woman," I remarked sarcastically.

"Oh, yeah, she is. You just can't see it under all her bitchiness," she scoffed.

"She's early," Esme commented mildly as soon as she had finished skimming her to-do list.

"Yeah, they just got in. Charlotte didn't want to sit in the apartment all day since the stores aren't open and she wanted a chance to 'catch up with friends.'"

"Well, aren't we the lucky bunch," Esme responded derisively.

"Hellooooo!"

For someone so ugly on the inside, Charlotte sure was stunning on the out. I didn't remember much about her – other than I was certain her boobs had never been that big – since we had seldom crossed paths in the tiny town of Forks. I couldn't even remember having a conversation with the woman.

She was impeccably dressed in a charcoal pantsuit without an ash blond hair out of place at nine in the morning. She looked like she had gotten lost on her way to a business meeting for fashion kingpins; everyone in the kitchen, looked as though they had rolled out of bed, myself included. Anyone with sense could tell by the way we were subconsciously patting down our hair and straightening our clothing that we felt absolutely sloppy next to her. The sandy-brown haired man that stepped in behind her only exacerbated her failed attempt at blending in. He was dressed casually: blue jeans, white thermal, leather jacket… and black motorcycle boots. _Damn, Jasper's dad gets better looking with age!_

"You're drooling," Edward said, placing a finger under my chin to help me close my gaping mouth.

"Don't let Charlotte know," Rosalie snorted, "she'll call you out on it and tell you aren't worthy of shit, but not actually coming out and saying that. I've seen it happen before, believe me," she added when she read the disbelief on my face.

"Esme!" Charlotte squealed, excitedly fluttering her hands around like she won the Miss Universe title. As graceful as a prima ballerina, she pranced over to Esme to give her an air kiss. She released Esme from her manicured talons and flitted over to Renee, repeating the process.

Mom smiled politely and then probably wracked her brain, thinking of a time she had actually met Charlotte. In reality, it probably never happened. Esme had informed me that Charlotte had skipped out on the funeral reception after pretty much spending the entire service gossiping with other self-absorbed doctors' wives. And from what I understood through second hand knowledge, Renee never left me alone during the days following Charlie's death. Charlotte didn't strike me as the kind of woman who would stop by the house to offer condolences.

"And you must be little Bridget," she said, petting my sister's hair like she was her lapdog.

"No, ma'am, my name is Sophia."

"Of course it is, sweetie. I remember the last time I saw you; you were such a twiggy little thing with big eyes and stringy hair. And look at you now! You're beautiful! You finally look like you've gone through puberty."

_Was that supposed to be a compliment?_

"Um… thank you? But, you're probably remembering my older sister, Bella. I've never been to Forks."

"Of course! How silly of me," she laughed, turning in the direction Sophia was pointing. "How are you doing, sweetheart? Are you handling everything alright – you know with your father dead and all?" She whispered.

"Sure…" I answered. I was fighting to keep my face neutral. If this woman were wise, she'd shut her trap ten minutes ago.

She passed over Alice, only offering her a fleeting, uninterested glance and a small wave that consisted of minutely wiggling her fingers. Alice returned her greeting – if one could call it that – with a smile, except it was more like combination of a grimace and as if she smelled something rank. Charlotte went on to hug Edward, Emmett, Carlisle and Phil, lingering in tight embraces on her part a tad longer than what was deemed appropriate. I wanted to blush in embarrassment for her when her coquettish attitude towards my step-father went unrequited; she just couldn't take a hint.

"Oh, you are in very nice shape, Phil," she breathed, squeezing his biceps. She fluttered her unnaturally long lashes and pursed her lips in a way that made them appear fuller while she felt up my step-father's chest. Renee glowered in her direction with both hands on her slim hips.

"Yeah, it's all part of the job," he answered uncomfortably, gently pulling out of her grasp.

"Yes, yes, I overheard Jasper saying something about that… you're a football player with the NHL, yes?" Phil spaced out, seemingly stunned by her blinding white, Miss America smile.

"It's N_F_L, Mom, and quit flirting with him!" Jasper hissed lowly in her ear. Peter remained unaffected by his wife's antics as he spoke with Carlisle about rumors of a new research wing at the hospital. Perhaps he was used to his wife heavily flirting with men in his presence.

"Honey, I'm just being friendly! No need get your underwear in a knot. Now that we're all acquainted and reacquainted, what are we doing today?" Charlotte asked, admiring a diamond rivaling the size of the Rock of Gibraltar on her hand. "I know this great masseuse that does house calls, holidays rates are expensive but doable. What do you say girls? My treat," she sang.

"As tempting as that sounds, Charlotte, I don't think we'll have time for that," Esme replied.

"Oh? And why is that?" She cocked her head to the side like a confused puppy.

"Because we'll be busy in the kitchen, getting things ready," Esme enunciated her words slowly, so Charlotte wouldn't misunderstand.

"What did you think we were doing here?" Rosalie asked.

"Waiting for the caterers to come back…" Her tone implied a 'duh' at the end of that sentence. "Anywho, I'm afraid I won't be much help in the kitchen, so you're all on your own there! Carry on!" She giggled and clapped her hands as if we were servants in her home. How in the hell did Rosalie and Jasper not die from starvation when they were children since it was apparent they weren't products of abundant fast food dinners?

"Our maid in Anchorage also doubled as a chef. It wasn't in her contract, but I think she felt sorry for Jazz and I. If it hadn't been for her, we _would_ have starved to death," Rosalie whispered. I said that out loud?

Brushing non-existent dirt off of the chair Edward had recently vacated when he reluctantly rose to hug Jasper's mommy dearest, she sat her dainty derriere on the seat next to me and smiled in my direction before sliding her eyes towards her niece.

"Rosalie, be helpful and fetch me some water." Charlotte's voice held a tinge of venom as she spoke. Her jaw was rigid and her teeth were clenched through her seemingly-sweet smile; being nice to her niece was a gargantuan feat for this woman.

"What am I, a dog? Could at least say 'please'," Rosalie grumbled under her breath.

"What was that, _sweetheart_?" Her eyes flashed in irritation and anger despite the fact that the rest of her face was the epitome of the perfect angel.

"Nothing, Auntie Char," she answered demurely, though she looked as if she wished her eyes could shoot lasers.

"That's what I thought," she hissed quietly, a faint satisfied smirk graced her pink glossed lips. I could tell that Rosalie struggled with keeping the peace; the narrowing of her dark blue eyes and the furious red blush that crawled up her neck gave her away.

Mr. Whitlock sensed the mounting tension between the two and took it upon himself to "fetch" the bottled water from the open package on the counter less than three steps away from his wife.

_Lazy ass…_

"Thank you, baby, but Rosie _would _have done it," she said to him before addressing the rest of the crowd. "Honestly, children should learn to respect those who had raised them."_ ...by being your slave?_

She accepted the bottled water, but left it unopened on the counter in front of her, already forgotten. It was painfully clear that she didn't really want it; she just wanted a chance to push Rose around. The tension was thicker than that first dinner in the condo. Any type of conversation was risky; somehow we knew Charlotte would be able to turn it into a power struggle with Rosalie. It was the first time my family had seen the two interact with each other, but it was evident that aunt and niece were like oil and water – they just didn't mix.

"Bella, you and Rose should frost that cake we baked yesterday, and get it out of the way. All the tools are in the other kitchen." I had no idea what Esme was talking about, there was no cake waiting to be frosted.

"Sounds good to me," Rose muttered, scraping the chair legs loudly against the floor.

"I'll go, too!" Alice piped in. "You can teach me how to use that decorating gun thingy." She was up and out in an instant. I guess we were baking a cake then.

"Soph?"

"I'll stay here to help Mom and Mrs. Cullen." As much as I hated leaving her there, Mom and Esme needed competency in the kitchen; the men showed no signs of it unless a recipe called for microwave use and Charlotte's kitchen skills were undoubtedly laughable, probably worse than Alice's.

Unwilling to leave the condo in my current state of dress, I threw on some sweat pants and a t-shirt after I had thrown my hair in a sloppy ponytail and scrubbed my teeth clean. Leaving the guys behind to play Madden on the PS3, I walked across the hall and into the Cullen's kitchen to find Alice and Rosalie searching high and low for the non-existent cake.

"You guys do know that she just said that to get Rose away from Charlotte, right? Nobody baked a cake." Alice startled at my voice and bumped her head on a low shelf. "Why would she keep a cake with the pots?" I asked bewildered.

"I don't know… maybe she was hiding it from Em," she murmured, rubbing the back of her head.

"Alright, girls, you're about to have your first lesson in baking. First, because I'm too lazy to make it from scratch, read the directions on the back of that box."

Seventy minutes later, an impatient Alice had released the latch on the springform pan. Going against my warnings, she had assured me that she had everything under control and wanted to try the rest of the steps without my advice. I took a step back from the situation and kept my mouth shut, but couldn't stop the amused grin from forming on my face as they fumbled through the frosting process.

The red velvet cake was still relatively warm; Rose had taken the pan out of the oven a little over fifteen minutes ago. Following my earlier instructions, Alice had sliced through the middle of the cake, frequently leaving behind crumbs and large pieces because it was warm and she had used the first knife she had gotten her hands on – a chef's knife. She had insisted that all would be well as soon as she glued the crumbs back on with frosting. Rosalie had broken the top layer in half as she attempted to place it on top to trap the filling. The condition of the cake became continually worse as time ticked on.

The end result was something akin to Frankenstein's monster. The sweet cream cheese filling had melted between the warm layers and had been oozing out the sides. Red crumbs were clearly visible through the white frosting and the whole thing seemed to slope to one side.

"Um…" I mumbled. Alice and Rosalie exchanged nervous glances. "This is... good... for your first try." I said, trying to be supportive. I couldn't say I had done much better when I had first started.

"It looks like shit," Rose stated with certainty.

"No, no… no… well, yeah, but I'm sure we could work with this. How 'bout we turn it into cake balls?"

"Say what?" Alice asked, still trying to fix the lost cause by scraping the excess filling off and smoothing it out on top.

"If you wanna be fancy, they're red velvet cake truffles. We'll mix the whole thing up and roll them into little balls. I'm sure I have white chocolate in my pantry. Alice, do you mind grabbing it?" She dashed out the door, excited to be working on a new project. Rosalie and I immediately got to work on disassembling their monster creation.

"I'm sorry."

"For…?" Rose questioned completely confused about my apology.

"…having a horrible family member," I answered matter-of-factly. "Why does she treat you like that?"

"Because she can… Last time I put my foot down, she conveniently forgot to send in a check to cover my tuition. Luckily for me Uncle Peter is a smooth talker and the school accepted the late payment."

"Wait a minute… If they're covering your school expenses, why are you working so much?"

"I intend to pay back every red cent they had paid for my education. I don't want that hanging over my head for the rest of my life, Charlotte would never allow me forget it. Anyway, there's no need to worry about me, I'll be out from under her thumb in less than five years. Alice is the one you should worry about, with the track she's currently running, they're going to be in-laws in the near future."

"Blech, don't remind me. If I didn't love Jasper so much, I would have turned tail and ran a long time ago. She doesn't think that any girl who isn't royalty or a celebrity is worthy of her son's attention. And next time you need something from your kitchen you have to get it, I am not going back in there while that indolent woman is sipping coffee and being waited on by her pussy-whipped husband." She tossed the bag of chocolate chips onto the counter and quickly dove into our new project.

"What did she say this time?" Rose asked.

"Mom asked me about school and Charlotte butted in… told me that my designs were generic and would end up on a Ross's clearance rack if I didn't step it up. Well, in your face, bitch! Whose designs were deemed haute couture worthy by Magnolia's team of designers? Mine!" Alice shouted towards the door.

"How does your uncle put up with her?" I asked Rosalie as Alice carried on her rant towards the closed door.

"I guess he's still trying to make up for sleeping with my mother… and possibly fathering me. Charlotte loves to throw that in his face and guilt trip him when she doesn't get her way, yet she won't even allow us to do a paternity test because she's so afraid of the truth. Not like I give a shit. No matter who had fathered me, I'm still attached to a ridiculously fucked up family. Or he could also be keeping her happy, so she won't ask for a divorce and clean him out."

"They sound like real winners," I deadpanned. "You cool, Ali?" I questioned, noticing the yelling had ceased.

She inhaled deeply though her nose and expelled it through her mouth in an effort to control her breathing. "Fine," she rasped, her throat was raw from screaming profanities and releasing pent up aggression at the top of her lungs.

We continued rolling the mush-like cake into little bite-sized balls and put them in the freezer to harden.

In between my laughter, astonishment and coating the now frozen cake balls in chocolate, Rosalie and Alice had fed me tidbits of gossip concerning the woman who had thrown a wrench in our holiday giddiness.

I had no intention of excusing Rosalie's behavior when we were kids, but from a objective point of view, I could understand why she acted the way she had. From an early age, Rosalie had been led to believe that she wasn't good enough. She had been tossed aside by the people who were supposed to love her and take care of her.

With Peter working any and all hours to support his family and his wife's spending habits, and the lack of affection from her aunt, it was hardly a stretch to assume she had reveled in the attention she had amassed in Forks. At school – with beauty as her weapon – she had been powerful enough to make or break reputations and controlled the people who had surrounded her.

As influential as she was at school, she had felt small and feeble in her aunt's presence. Charlotte had been the one to suggest therapy for Rosalie after I left Forks because Rose's depression could reflect badly on the Whitlock family. She had also been the one to cancel Rose's sessions after a couple of months, citing that it was a waste of perfectly good money since Rosalie wasn't getting any better.

Growing up, she didn't really have any close friends, anyone she could confide in. The only person she could truly rely on was her cousin, but she had closed herself off so early in life that she had continually kept him at arm's length to keep from being hurt if the Whitlocks decided to abandon her as well. Only when she had crumbled into tears in Emmett's presence did she begin to lower her walls. There was no doubt that Emmett had healed part of her fractured mind when he befriended her and taught her all he knew about cars, but I believe that she still needed professional help. That opinion became even stronger when she had described living with Charlotte and all the times she had been torn down by her aunt's words. They had a legal term for that: psychological abuse.

We moved on to lighter topics such as Christmas gifts and where we were spending the upcoming holidays.

With their newfound confidence in baking, they had decided to prepare an array of desserts. I put my foot down at cheesecake, knowing we would need twice the time we were permitted.

"Attractive," Sophia teased. Somewhere along the way, things went haywire and we ended up being covered in batter, eggs and flour. "Dad wants to play ball, you girls in?"

"Yeah, sure…" I shrugged.

"You play football?" Alice asked skeptically.

"Quarterback, usually. My hand-eye coordination is awesome. My ability to stay upright while running... not so much."

Mom and Esme had volunteered to stay in. And much to their chagrin, so did their new best friend. The rest of us stood in the middle of a field at Denny Park on a dark gray afternoon. The heavens had ceased their torrential downpour sometime after we had fallen asleep the night before; however the glacial-like weather had allowed frost to blanket the vast, green grassy lawn.

Emmett had declared his alliance with Phil before we had a chance to choose team captains. In the end, Carlisle, Rosalie and I had ended up on Phil and Emmett's team.

We kept things simple for those of us who didn't understand the official rules and scoring – Sophia and I included ourselves in that category along with Alice. Just because Phil played for a living didn't mean we were die hard football fans who knew the ins and outs of the game. There was only one thing I was absolutely sure of: touchdowns were worth six points. However, it was agreed that every touchdown would count as one point in our game; like I said, we were trying to keep things simple.

General rules such as false starts, stepping out of bounds and no tackling were in place. We also thought up some other rules up as we went along to even the playing field between the athletic and practically inactive.

Emmett was all too happy about being in a huddle with Phil; he even went as far as rubbing it in Jasper's and Edward's faces. They both pouted adorably and grumbled under their breaths before joining in on their own huddle with long faces.

We were tied at nine, it was our ball at about first and goal – it was difficult to keep up with our boundaries since the objects we had set up kept getting kicked around and repositioned. If this play went perfectly, we'd win. But most importantly, we'd get to go home. I had to admit that I had fun, but it was fucking freezing out there. It didn't matter that we had spent the last hour running around; my toes were on their way to being frozen – faux-fur lined boots and double layer of socks or not.

I had suggested we stop the game and head back when Alice's nose started to compete with a certain reindeer's and her teeth chattered exactly like the wind-up toy. That girl seriously needed some meat on her. Jasper had done his best to keep her warm; he had given her the sweatshirt he was wearing and began to freeze his ass off in his double layered thermal Henleys and gloves. But, Alice refused to back down once Emmett had suggested that her leaving warranted a forfeit for her team. That must have lit a fire under her ass because they came back from a five-point deficit; she had streaked past other players to get to me or rush the ball into the end zone to score. Alice was a sneaky little thing when she wanted to be.

As soon as the ball was snapped and it securely rested in my hands, Rosalie and Phil shot off towards the goal while Emmett and Carlisle tried their best to protect my ass. However, instead of running after my two receivers, the whole opposing team came after me. There was no way Emmett and Carlisle could watch my back with five people stampeding their way. I wasn't too proud to say that I panicked. I ran off in the opposite direction, screaming my ass off with the football held in front of me as if it were a bomb.

I needed to get Team Edward off of my ass, otherwise my clumsiness would catch up with me and I'd end up in the emergency room. I refused to concede defeat. I stopped short in the middle of our field and spun on my feet to throw the ball to Rosalie. Now, naturally the area of lawn we were playing on was now wet and a little muddy since the frost had melted under our running. That being put out there, I confess that I had slipped and nearly ate shit. Edward broke my fall when he dove to catch me before I face planted in the grass. "Nice catch. Thank you," I smiled.

The straight spiral pass meant for Rose went wild and hit an unintended target – Jasper's face. He staggered backwards before falling on his ass.

"Oh, shit… Jasper, are you alright? I'm so, so sorry! I slipped right when I threw it and… crap, I'm sorry," I rambled, scrambling to disentangle myself from Edward's limbs.

Giving me a weak smile through red, watery eyes, he waved off my apologies and stated that there was no damage done; Carlisle and Peter confirmed it. Still, I felt horrible. Alice fussed over her boyfriend, continually asking him on the status of his pain on the way home. I cringed when I looked in the rear view mirror; the skin around Jasper's right eye had morphed into a greenish color.

"Uh, we don't have ice right now, but I think leaning your face on the window might help given that the temperature reads thirty-eight degrees. It would be like sticking your face in the fridge," I suggested, reciting the readout on my dash. Edward tried and failed to hide his quiet chuckle. Sophia was a little better at hiding her smile.

Jasper had retrieved his and Rosalie's overnight bag from his trunk and followed the Cullen brothers into their condo to rinse off and change. Rose opted to stay far away from her aunt for as long as possible and followed the boys. The rest of us entered the condo on the opposite side of the hall in trepidation. It was too quiet. I was afraid we'd either have to hide Charlotte's mutilated dead body or kill her ourselves. There was no blood trail or any signs of a struggle, so that was a plus.

Esme was alone in the kitchen, whisking the crap out of something in a saucepan. She was muttering loudly at a mile a minute while flailing her free arm.

"Es, you okay, honey?" Carlisle asked, placing a hand on her shoulder to calm her.

"Oh, I'm wonderful! Perfect! No offense, Peter, but your wife is a piece of work," she snapped. She must have been at the end of her rope to openly loathe someone's wife to his face.

"No offense taken, honestly. I've been married to the woman for nearly twenty years, so I do understand how she can be."

Wow, even her husband won't defend her.

"Where's my mom?"

"Your mother took Charlotte to the store with her... thank GOD!" She whispered the last part. "Renee wanted more wine and Charlotte tagged along to buy hard liquor. Can you believe she lectured us for not installing a 'half-way decent bar'? Like having a fully stocked bar was a good idea to have in a house full of unsupervised, underage young adults. And then she has the gall to question my parenting? FUCK. THAT!"

Alice's surprise mirrored my own, apparently I wasn't the only one who had never heard Esme curse.

"Shh…" her husband attempted to calm her as she was borderline hysterical.

"I mean… does it matter if Edward hadn't declared a major yet? He's still in his first semester of college! He's allowed to take a semester or two to figure out what he wants to do. I don't see how it's her business what my children decide. And really, why _wouldn't_ I support Alice's decision to attend The Art Institute? I am not coddling her or just saying things to be nice. She has great talent and I believe in her one thousand percent! And don't even get me started on what she said about Emmett and Rose," she huffed.

"Sorry, she doesn't know her boundaries or when to shut up," Peter apologized.

"I've noticed," she responded scathingly.

The pair returned from the store in under thirty minutes. Since then, the boys and Rose had joined the men and had taken to yelling at the referees on TV. I helped Esme put the finishing touches on dinner and Alice had tastefully redecorated the dining room to fit the holiday theme without it looking like Thanksgiving threw up in there. Mom walked in with a smile on her face, unperturbed by the woman trailing behind her, who was prattling on about the perfect dirty martini. Esme examined Mom's face skeptically and checked her eyes for evidence of drug use.

"I'm fine," she laughed, waving off Esme's concerns.

"She didn't get to you… _at all_?" Esme asked, disbelieving.

"I've dealt with hundreds of women like her during the course of my career. Just focus on something happy and then tune her out. With some well placed nods and hmms, she wouldn't know the difference unless she was asking you for an opinion."

"Doesn't explain your perma-grin," Alice pointed out.

"I know. This," she pointed to her growing smile, "is because she walked around the store with toilet paper hanging out of her pants," she cackled. We all fought to stifle our giggles lest we alert the woman we were focused on.

"What's so funny?" She asked as she trespassed on the loose circle we had formed.

"Nothing… I was just telling them about that little boy who was giving girl advice to his baby brother. You remember, right? The boy couldn't have been older than seven," she laughed. So did Charlotte.

"Oh, yes, I remember! That was very cute!" She laughed heartily with the rest of us. The silent message Renee shot to the rest of us conveyed that the story she had concocted was a work of fiction and Charlotte was full of shit.

"Honey, why don't you go ahead and get ready for dinner. Oh, will you tell the boys to bring the desserts over on your way out, please? Thank you, Alice." Esme abruptly ended the conversation by turning her back. Renee and I helped her arrange our dinner onto square white, modern serving platters. Charlotte began admiring her reflection on a shiny silver platter.

The boys had reassembled the Cullen's round dining table and chairs at the end of my rectangular one to ensure everyone had ample elbow room for dinner. We were dressed semi-formally as Esme had requested, both tables were set and the food sat untouched in the center of all of us, mocking us with their enticing aroma.

Phil had insisted on saying grace at the same time Charlotte had decided she wanted a whiskey sour. Renee got up to supervise. It turned out that Charlotte had all the components for the sour part of the recipe on the kitchen counter, but left the whiskey in the Esme's SUV. So, Renee gritted her teeth as Esme went in search of her keys. Renee left to help Charlotte locate her bottle of booze.

Emmett whined relentlessly until Esme had given him permission to eat one of the cookies we had prepared earlier. Edward and Jasper began to complain of not having anything to eat for more than five hours. Esme rolled her eyes and shoved the plate full of oatmeal cranberry cookies in their direction.

"Thanks, Mom!" They said in unison before stuffing their faces full of sweets. It was rather disgusting to watch.

Peter looked heartbroken when he heard his son call Esme 'Mom,' but he tried to cover it up with a wide grin. Much to Jasper's surprise, Peter was being playful, occasionally trying to sneak a bite out of one of many cookies in Jazz's hand. As covertly as possible I watched Peter's interaction with his son while Alice, Rosalie and Sophia jabbered away about black Friday sales. Many times Peter's smile faded a bit as he cut his eyes over to Carlisle, who had been watching the interaction in fatherly amusement. I read what he was thinking on his face: "does my son think of Carlisle as his father as well?" I saw pain in his eyes: "have I been replaced?"

But, what kind of outcome did he expect other than the reality he was already living? From my understanding, he had worked long hours, spent a lot of his time off on vacation with his wife and didn't take an interest in what his son was doing in school. Rosalie mentioned that Peter didn't even know that his son was majoring in psychology or that he wanted to go to Stanford for his Doctorate. Carlisle spoke with Jasper about school, his hopes, goals and fears. Jazz went to him for advice when Emmett's and Edward's lack of experience and theoretical knowledge was of no use. Carlisle Cullen was the kind of father Jasper wished he had; Esme was certainly a mother Jasper could be proud of. For the umpteenth time that day, I pitied the Whitlock family.

When Renee and Charlotte returned to the table with the tallest tumbler in my cabinet and the bottle of hard liquor, the boys were still hungry and the rest of us were ready to gnaw our arms off. We had worked up quite an appetite during our game.

"I trust everyone is happy now?" Peter asked out loud, but directing the question towards his wife. She smiled, toasted his empty wine glass and took a sip of her whiskey sour.

Eager to start dinner, we bowed our heads and joined hands to finally say grace. Out of curiosity, I popped an eye half-way open to see what Charlotte would do. As Phil thanked the Lord for our blessings – no matter how small – and the food on the table, Charlotte rolled her eyes and uncrossed her arms to grab her glass of alcohol. She let her husband's and son's hand rest on the table.

_That woman is seriously going to Hell._

As soon as we had finished with a final amen, I heard a faint "finally" originating from across the table. I was ready to smack the bitch stupid. Phil began to carve the turkey while chivalry kicked in within the three youngest y-chromosome carriers and allowed the girls to serve themselves first. Conversation was jovial and lively as we piled our plates high with food. Mom, Esme, Carlisle and Peter listened to Phil recount the Cardinals' locker room pranks and gossip. Soph and Rosalie debated the pros and cons of Redi-Wip and Cool Whip with Emmett. Edward and Jasper discussed a long awaited video game while Alice asked questions about gameplay and playability. Charlotte looked miserable as she wasn't getting the attention she so desperately wanted. So, like the attention whore that she was, she opened her mouth and said, "Renee, you have a good eye. I love how you put this together," gesturing to the table linens, dinnerware and décor.

"Thank you, Charlotte, but this was all Alice. She's a fashion guru whether it comes to clothing or housewares."

The dark-haired nymph sat up straighter and preened under my mother's praise, but visibly deflated when Charlotte replied with nothing more than a low, short hum. The air was still with an awkward silence.

"So," Renee started, "where do you girls want to go shopping tomorrow?"

"Please, tell me that you guys aren't planning to participate in Black Friday sales," Charlotte said with distaste.

"Do you have something against shopping?" Alice asked.

"No. I just don't know why anyone who has the money to pay retail would need to buy things on _sale_."

"Why would anyone want to pay full price when they can get the same product at a lower price? Parents who are successful in teaching their children that money is no object tend to breed spoiled brats who are used to instant gratification. Waiting for prices to come down can definitely teach someone patience. Plus, it's a thrill when you find a great product at an even better price."

"Rosalie, did I ask you for your opinion? No, I didn't. So, get off your soapbox and preach to someone who cares."

She continued to pepper dinnertime conversation with her underhanded comments directed towards the younger buxom blond and the tiny dark-haired fairy. When Esme came to their rescue, Charlotte asked, "Have you ever considered botox, Esme? I know _I_ would hate to live with wrinkles."

It was rather comical to watch ten pairs of eyebrows shoot up towards their hairlines at the same time as Esme narrowed her eye into slits.

"Yes, well, these _laugh lines_ attest to my full and _happy_ life, I'm quite fond of them. But, then again, I wouldn't expect a sour woman like you to understand that," Esme retorted condescendingly. With no witty come back of her own, Charlotte went back to picking at her dinner and gulping down large amounts of whiskey that was no longer sour. Charlotte made no other attempt at conversation, but just because words hadn't left her mouth didn't mean she hadn't caused another disruption.

"OH, MY GOD!" She gasped after a violent coughing fit. "I feel like I just inhaled sand! Rosalie, gravy!" She barked. It didn't matter that the gravy boat was in Phil and Renee's corner of the table while Rosalie was on the opposite end. Charlotte refused to take it from Renee's outstretched hand. Finally fed up with his wife's petulance, Peter thanked Renee and took it upon himself to slather his wife's slices of turkey with brown gravy.

I admit that it wasn't as moist as it could be, but it wasn't Sahara Desert dry like the drama queen had implied with her outburst. It was nothing a drizzle of gravy wouldn't have solved in an instant. Esme looked as if she were ready to put that steak knife in her hand to better use.

"That didn't make a difference," Charlotte scoffed after swallowing another bite. "Now it just feels like I'm swallowing clumps of salt." She pushed her plate away as she began to refill her glass to the brim.

"Charlotte, please, for once in your life, stop acting like a brat," Peter spat out through clenched teeth. "You're embarrassing me and you're embarrassing your children."

"Child," she growled. "_Jasper_ is my child. Rosalie isn't mine; she belongs to your whore! She doesn't belong in this family!"

"Don't. Don't you dare insult her memory like that! She was a good–"

"GOOD?" She exclaimed. "We are talking about the same bitch, right?

"Hey!" Rosalie interjected.

"The married woman who slept with my husband and then jumped into a bottle and died when hers left… and leaving her responsibilities," she said eyeing Rose with abhorrence, "to other people."

I knew we should stop the argument before it escalated even further, yet like a horrific car crash we couldn't help but watch how it would end. I couldn't help but think of the irreparable damage it would cause the family – no matter how fucked they already were – and finally rose from my seat to order a ceasefire.

"That's it! Stop fighting!" Jasper roared. I sat back down as Jasper beat me to the punch. "You guys cancel your plans and invite yourselves over. And then you guys make this dinner miserable. Dad, don't get me wrong, I love having you in the same time zone on Thanksgiving for a change, but you know how Mom gets when she drinks."

"There's no need to air dirty laundry, Jasper," his mother hissed, glaring at him. "What the hell happened to your face?"

She had only noticed now? The skin around Jasper's eye was literally black and blue. It stuck out like a sore thumb against his fair complexion and blond hair.

Other than an eye roll, Jasper refused to acknowledge her question. "I'm just pointing out the obvious, Mother. You made your _alcohol abuse_ evident with the way you've been acting. And I would appreciate it if you didn't criticize Alice on everything she does. Esme treats me like one of her own, so please give Alice the same courtesy."

"Well, not everyone could be as perfect as The Great Esme Cullen," she said, her drunken speech dripping with disdain.

"Okay, you know what? I can put up with a lot of shit concerning you, but I won't sit here and listen to you insult Esme. She's been more of a mother to me than anyone in the world!" Rosalie yelled.

"That's because Esme Cullen is a fucking saint! She'd have to be to put up with your ungrateful, sorry ass!" She seethed.

"What the hell did I ever do to make you hate me so much? GOD! I've been nothing but respectful to you since I've entered your home!"

"You were born… that's reason enough for me to loathe your existence."

"So that's what this all comes down to? You're being bitter and I'm being punished for a mistake Uncle Peter made twenty years ago?"

"You know… I wish your mother had gone through with the abortion like she had planned. I know I was more than willing to pay for it," she spat. She sneered at her niece, knowing she had the last word. How could anyone have a rebuttal to that kind of harsh statement?

Esme and Peter looked enraged. Emmett glared at Charlotte as he held a defeated Rosalie in his arms. The rest of us were shocked into silence.

"Excuse me." Rosalie pushed away from the table and made a hasty exit. Upon her departure the room exploded in fury, even Sophia was shouting her disapproval. Jasper went after his cousin after he and Emmett exchanged a silent agreement.

"Charlotte, I think it may be time for you to leave," Renee said evenly as the noise began to die down.

"Oh, but I haven't even had a chance to finish my dinner," she mock-pouted.

"Charlotte, get up and let's go."

"Fine," she snapped, rolling her eyes at her husband. She left the empty bottle of 40-year-old Glenfiddich on the table, but grabbed the tumbler full of alcohol.

"You can't take that with you," Renee stated, rising from her seat.

"I paid nearly three-thousand dollars for this whiskey, so excuse me if I don't want to leave it behind for you people to enjoy."

"Oh, you can take the alcohol with you. In fact," she continued, snatching the tumbler from Charlotte's clumsy hands, "why don't you take your whiskey home." Renee proceeded to pour the liquid into Charlotte's Prada purse and then handed it back to her. "I just need my tumbler back. Now, don't let the door hit you on the way out, okay?"

"Peter, are you going to let her get away with this?"

"Charlotte, if you can't fight your own battles, then you need to stop picking fights and provoking people. We both know that you're just going to replace everything as soon as possible anyway. Esme, Carlisle, do you mind if the kids spend the night? We'll be staying at the apartment tonight and I don't want to expose them to her when she's like this."

"Of course, they are welcome to stay any time."

Charlotte silently mocked Esme as she exaggerated her flailing arms, bobbing head and facial expressions. Peter rolled his eyes and shook his head. "We're very sorry for ruining dinner." His wife snorted. "Thank you for including us," he said graciously. "Come on," he demanded of Charlotte tersely.

"Kids, that wasn't very mature of me, so please don't follow my example," Renee confessed, walking back to her seat.

"Emmett, why don't you go check on Rosalie and Jasper, see if you can coax them back to the dinner table," Esme asked after high-fiving my mom.

The rest of dinner passed with a noticeable happier mood, but our thoughts still lingered on the statements that chased Rosalie out of the room; it was hard not to when she barely uttered a few words or looked up from her full plate.

It was barely ten o'clock, yet the leftovers were put away, the kitchen was free of all dirty dishes, and all the kids were camping out in my living room. We were hoping to catch a few z's before Esme, Mom and Alice dragged us out into the throngs of crazy ass shoppers. The girls were going to shop; the guys were guilt tripped into holding our shopping bags.

It seemed like I had only closed my eyes for ten minutes before we were abruptly woken by a blaring stereo playing Mariah's "All I Want for Christmas"; radio stations were getting an early start with the Christmas spirit.

"Oh, good, you guys are up," Alice smirked, decreasing the volume from the remote controller. I had half a mind to throw more than one couch cushion at Alice when I read the time on my cell phone; it was two in the morning.

The guys grumbled in annoyance while turning their backs as if that would deter the perky elf from Hell. They snuggled into their pillows and drew the covers up over their heads as Alice began advancing on the three unsuspecting victims. There was a mischievous glint in her eyes that had me running to my room to get ready just so I would be spared from her wrath. As I stepped into the hallway, Alice pounced on Emmett and violently shook him, screeching 'WAKE UP' at the top of her lungs. It was unfortunate that Jasper chose to sleep in the immediate vicinity as Emmett; he was next on her list. Alice nudged him with her socked-covered feet until he rolled out of his makeshift bed of pillows and into a wall. Edward was lucky he slept on the opposite side of the living room; he was out of the condo before Alice could attack.

"Go away, Alice," Emmett whined with his eyes closed. "The mall doesn't even open 'til five, why the hell are we getting up now?" A frown marred his face as his hand blindly searched the space Rosalie had recently vacated.

"Because there are only four bathrooms to share between eleven of us and I would like to get there before all the good parking is taken. I'm only doing this for your own good… unless you want to spend hours looking for a parking spot. It's really up to you."

"Fine," he mumbled through a yawn, opening his eyes into small sleepy slits. Emmett gathered his and Rosalie's bedding to drag them across the hall.

Two hours later we joined other overeager consumers in the freezing cold. We had taken Alice's Cayenne, Emmett's Range and Esme's Q7, wholly intent on stuffing every open crevice with our merchandise. Mom was determined to pack that empty suitcase of hers to the weight capacity; she would buy extra luggage for Phil and Sophia if need be.

The crowd was anxious to start their shopping; my personal space shrank with every minute that passed. I was afraid I would be trampled in a customer stampede as soon as security unlocked those glass doors. As five o'clock drew nearer, Edward had strategically placed himself behind me after glaring at an acne-ridden, immature teenager who had given into peer pressure and groped my ass.

Finally, three drowsy-looking security guards put us all out of our misery and opened the doors. They scurried off to the side as soon as they had unlocked all doors to dodge the onslaught of frozen stiff buyers.

Many colorful store signs boasted early bird specials and free gifts with a minimum purchase. However, we double-timed it to Neiman Marcus to take advantage of their sale. Alice took a deep breath as she took in the decorations that signified the start of the Christmas season. A serene expression painted her face… that is until an angry woman pushed her out of the way for hindering her ability to completely clean out a display of designer cashmere scarves. So, out of spite, Alice had grabbed any scarf she could get her hands on. She really wasn't a nice person when shopping was involved.

"What are you gonna do with all of those?" I asked.

Alice shrugged before answering, "Christmas gifts and charity."

"Alice, share," Esme admonished.

"I am! I left the lime green and bright orange ones didn't I?"

The young woman who had hip checked Alice into the nearest table scowled and attempted to sneak a couple of scarves from the over flowing pile in Alice's arms.

"Uh, uh, uh, didn't your mother teach you that you that stealing is a no-no? Well, since I'm feeling generous and the holiday spirit is obviously with me, I'm going to let you choose four from my pile."

The woman narrowed her eyes in resentment at Alice's condescending tone, but decided to benefit from Alice's generosity. The shopping Nazi smiled in victory as she had bested the impatient woman.

_Oh, boy, let the games begin._

___

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**Again, I am so very sorry about lagging. I've had the chapter written, but didn't have the time nor inspiration to edit. You should see my inbox... full of chapters waiting to be read. Since deadlines obviously do not have an effect on me, I'll just surprise you with the next one :)**

**Alright, who hates Charlotte? Anyone wanna throw her under a bus? My family is very big on drinking, but fortunately we don't have a Charlotte.**

**I didn't write an outtake for this chapter, but I did write a short little something called Sweet Revenge. It can be found on my profile. I should warn you, if vulgar language and allusion to sex is not your cup of tea, then please do not read it.**

**Thank you for reading. As always, I love to read your thoughts, so drop me a review as a Christmas gift to me!**

**If I don't post another chapter by the end of this year, please be safe this holiday season. Merry Christmas and Happy New Year!**

**Until next time!**


	19. Chapter 19

Hi! Sorry, I know I'm posting at a speed of one chapter per month (sometimes less), but my life is too unpredictable to put this story on a regular schedule. I cannot thank you readers enough for sticking with me and urging me on towards the finish line.

I would like to apologize in advance to those who watch college ball and know how and when the games are scheduled because I'm sure my depictions are inaccurate.

Happy reading!

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The Black Friday outing had been as I had expected – exhausting yet productive. After Alice had dismissed the hip-checking, scarf-stealing girl with the flick of her wrist, we had moved forward with our day. We had swept through each department like a hurricane, a force to be reckoned with, grabbing whatever had caught our eyes – which were many things much to the guys' dismay. Mom had pointed out the luxury of her seemingly limitless bank account and credit card when she had suggested I let her buy whatever I wanted and then donate what didn't agree with my body type. I had to admit that it had been a good idea when I had seen the mile long lines at every single fitting room the vast department store had to offer.

After scouring the rest of the mall for any store that was relevant to our tastes, we headed home at one o'clock with three trunks stuffed full of our findings. As much as we had been dreaming of a soft pillow to drool on and a heavy blanket to snuggle under, Alice had cracked her proverbial whip and ordered everyone to haul our purchases upstairs. Phil had shoved whatever could fit into the new set of suitcases Mom needed to buy to haul her spoils home. _Many thanks to whoever invented elevators because fuck, we bought a lot of shit._

Thankfully Alice had allowed us a three hour power nap before forcing the under-21 crowd into a fashion show. The three teenage boys and I grumbled in annoyance but discontinued our grievances when we had received sharp looks from our fashion coordinator. We sucked it up and donned every newly acquired piece of clothing in our possession with a serious case of bedhead and exaggerated smiles on our faces. With Alice's critical eye for haute couture, she had either approved or vetoed each article of clothing. It had been tiring experience and I had the urge to bury Alice under a mountain of clothes.

We had _finally_ ended the day with Thanksgiving leftovers and some much needed sleep.

The rest of the weekend had passed in relatively high spirits. The Thanksgiving dinner debacle had become a faint memory in our laughter, but it was definitely not forgotten. We had spent a lot of time reassuring Rosalie that she had a place in this world and a loving family to turn to. It was a sharp contrast to what I would have felt just a few months ago – indifferent, as if the cruel things her aunt had said had no impact on my life. I would have thought "karma's a bitch, get used to it" or "I guess not _everyone_ loves Rosalie Hale" and went on with my life without a second thought about what she might be going through. But, my feelings had changed and I now felt as protective of her as I would any of my friends back home.

On Saturday, we had allowed the guys to relax and encouraged a little male bonding over video games and junk food that was hazardous to their health while the women had agreed to a day in the city. Since the toy stores were equivalent to a warzone the day before, we had returned to the mall and bought bags upon bags of toys and teddies as gifts for children whose Christmas morning looked bleak. We had also purchased more clothing to supplement the ones that didn't make Alice's final cut to donate to charity and shelters. Once again, we had taken Alice's and Esme's SUVs for the room it had afforded us.

We had lunch at Café Campagne. Despite the exceptionally slow service, we had a great time chatting over good food. We had browsed all the shops the Pike Place Market had to offer; Renee and Sophia bought quite a few things to add to their growing pile of souvenirs. Afterwards, we had indulged in Rose's chocolates, moaned over The Confectional's delicious cheesecake truffles, and then caved as we passed Crepe de France for crepes stuffed full of fresh fruit, banana and Nutella, and goat cheese with tomatoes and basil.

Dinner hadn't been a huge affair; we had picked up some greasy pizza and soda on the way home for the guys since we were still full from lunch. The four adults had gathered around the Cullen's dining table, gossiping like old women in a beauty salon, while their children were content with eating and lounging in the living room, in front of the big screen TV.

Sunday morning and afternoon had been spent at various landmarks throughout Seattle. Phil had been approached many times by fans of all ages. The smile never slid off his face as he posed for countless pictures and signed countless autographs. We had a late lunch at Wild Ginger. Rosalie had slung her suede Michael Kors crossbody on the back of her chair out of harm's way, thinking about the last time we had lunch there. Renee and Esme did a little more shopping before we were on our way back home.

Our parents had gotten ready for dinner at The Pink Door while the rest of us had migrated to the plush couches in Cullen's living room. We had been comfortable in our loungewear and having a good time watching the Packers/Saints game while attempting to throw popcorn in each other mouths. And then, halfway through the third quarter we had realized that we still had a shit ton of work to finish before classes started back up in the morning. Needless to say, we had scrambled to finish what was left of our work. At midnight, an hour after Esme and Carlisle had stumbled into Edward's room while unabashedly groping each other, we were finally done.

All in all, it had been the best weekend I've had in Seattle since arriving in August. Although I wanted to cast that horrendous dinner out of my mind, it was entertaining to watch my mother kick Charlotte out on her ass… figuratively of course.

Monday morning, I had woken up early to drive my family to the Sea-Tac airport with a heavy heart. I had no idea how much I had missed them until I had to let them go. I had stayed as long as possible, huddled under the metal canopy with Sophia as airline employees weighed each piece of luggage curb-side. I finally had to leave when airport police had pulled up behind me and threatened to hit me with fines as big as my bank account, the possibility of being detained and having my car impounded. Phil had suggested I leave my car in the short-term parking structure when the stony-faced cop had refused to give me five more minutes to say goodbye. As tempting as extra time with them had sounded, my classes had been scheduled to start back up in three hours. So, I had rushed my goodbyes and sped off to escape the officer's warning glare. In my rearview mirror, I had observed the guy getting chummy with Phil; shaking hands and asking for autographs. _Ass…_

:::

With less than a month to learn new course material and attempting to retain the information we had learned at the beginning of the quarter, we threw ourselves into our studies, ignoring the beginnings of a fried out brain. I had begged Tyler to double up on my tutoring time after I had nearly failed the quiz that was given to us on the first class meeting following the holiday; it had left us with very little time to socialize. The Wicked Witch's lectures went in one ear and came out the other without ever registering in my brain. Maybe it was her usually monotonous tone of voice that often caused me to space out; the only deviance was when her voice dripped with condescension as she answered a student's "elementary" question. Ugh, I hated her and her teaching style.

If Tyler and I had time to talk, it would be another comment about his not-so-blissful relationship. So, in the two weeks since Thanksgiving break I had come to one conclusion about Gianna's and Tyler's love affair: he shouldn't have given her a second chance. I didn't understand why he didn't just leave her. Perhaps they've just been together for so long that they didn't really know how to be apart. In my opinion, those two should just call it quits and cut their losses. It hadn't worked out last time, it wasn't working out this time and the longer they kept this sham of a romance going, the likelier they will grow to despise each other.

Gianna would pick fights and then cry when Tyler raised his voice to defend himself. She somehow turned it around so that Tyler would be the one to apologize for their little lovers' quarrel. Dinner conversations were more stilted than lively because she always seemed to be angry about some minute mistake he had made early in the day. Most of her ire stemmed from his vehement refusal to check in with her every hour – what he was doing, who he was with, where he was, what he'll do later. She had accused him of not trusting her when he had suggested she do the same. Tyler felt like he had to walk on eggshells around her since he didn't know which words or actions would set her off.

One would think that since Gianna was the one who had insisted they get back together she would do more to repair their relationship. But, no, she seemed hell-bent on destroying whatever pathetic bond they had left. That girl was crazy. Her current personality didn't match Tyler's previous description of her at all. Where was her playfulness and understanding and patience he had talked about?

:::

We were given a brief reprieve from our endless preparations for finals – which were less than a week away – when Edward had guilt-tripped me into attending his next game. I had always dodged invitations to watch him play, partly because the weather was too damn cold to sit out in an open stadium, but mostly because stadiums and I don't mix.

The few times I'd gone to watch Phil play weren't very pleasant experiences. Let's see… the first time was a few months after I had turned sixteen. We had watched the field from a suite with a few different families whose son, husband or boyfriend had been on the team. I'd been the target of some unwanted advances from a boy my age that had been obsessed with porn and knew nothing of polite conversation. I had been asked numerous personal questions about my body and touched enough to make me want to take an acid bath. I still cringe when I remember how creepy he was.

The second time, I had insisted on sitting in the stands with the rest of the ticket holders so I wouldn't have to be trapped in a box with a kid whose life's mission at that point was to intimately watch a girl work her clit to the point of orgasm. The tipsy fan behind me had a bulging beer gut that had hit me in the head every time he rose to his feet to urge a player into the end zone. He had been double fisting when the Cardinals took the lead with only twenty-nine seconds left in overtime. He was extremely happy and failed to notice that he'd dumped his warm beer all over me. The smell of his Bud Light, along with his B.O., made me retch and I had ultimately thrown up my hotdog and ice cream on the unsuspecting middle-aged couple in front of us.

The last time I'd gone to a game was about a year ago. I'd been essentially stalked by a guy who looked like he had been the sole reason why the sex offenders' registry existed. If I had to thank that no-good, low-life of an ex-boyfriend for anything, it would have been for insisting he accompany me to the restroom during half time. If Riley hadn't and just walked right back up to our seats with our drinks, I was sure I'd have been sexually assaulted or worse.

I was tense on our whole ride over and stayed that way when we found our seats. Something was going to happen, I just knew it. However, as we settled down and time ticked on, I forced myself to relax and have a good time. Rose and Emmett were a row up, directly behind Alice, Jasper and me. The girls next to me were a little catty already, but nothing I couldn't handle. And the group of guys in front of me looked like they knew how to have a good time – their naked painted torsos, wigs, and the good-natured joking were dead giveaways.

_Today _will_ be a good day._ I refused to accept any alternatives.

The enthusiasm the Huskies fans showed was astounding; one would think they were there for a pro game rather than college ball. The cheers and screams were deafening as the Huskies jogged out of the locker room tunnel as were the jeers when the Trojans made their appearance. The sounds drowned out the encouraging cheers of those who had dared to wear crimson and gold in UW's house.

My eyes strained to find Edward because our sole purpose of attending was to watch him play. We were seated on UW's sidelines and were fifteen rows up. It occurred to me that I didn't know his jersey number and there were at least six guys with messy bronze-ish hair, so I was resigned to search each one by the names on the back of their jerseys. It wouldn't have been a problem if the letters weren't so damn small and blurry. I may need to schedule an appointment with an optometrist.

"Ten!" Emmett shouted near my ear. However, compared to the noise level the fans emitted, his shout was nothing more than a buzzing.

"What?" I yelled back.

"Ed… he's number ten!"

Once that information finally made sense in my mind, my eyes began to rescan the team. I finally found him, helmetless, standing in a group consisting of five other teammates. He had a small, forced smile on his face while the others looked to be in stitches. I guess it was a good thing that the game wasn't riding solely on his shoulders because he looked way too nervous to be on the field. It looked like the boy wanted to toss his cookies into the nearest helmet and run back into the locker room. Before we left the condo, Emmett had clued me in on the importance of this game – the victor would be one step closer to the Rose Bowl on New Year's Day.

Edward looked pretty hot suited up – then again, when doesn't he? His head turned and scanned the general area of where he knew our seats to be. Finally catching sight of our little group, he relaxed his stance and raised his hand to wave. Emmett jokingly blew a kiss at his brother and Edward playfully returned it. At least a hundred manicured hands shot out into the air to catch it, conceitedly thinking it was meant for them. Edward smiled, shook his head and blew another kiss into the crowd because apparently, his football uniform turned him into a flirtatious cocky bastard.

The green-eyed monster reared its ugly head as I took a look around at the other fans; the ladies in my section were more beautiful than average. Some were natural and others were results of heavy makeup and a plethora of hair products, but they were beautiful nonetheless. Who the hell was he giving that kiss to?

My hopes lifted a little because I could have sworn he pointed straight at me and said my name. So, like a dumbass, I pointed at myself and mouthed: "me?" He nodded in affirmation.

The group of girls next to us did nothing to smother their cackles. _Charity case, _one of them had declared as if it were explanation enough to justify Edward's communication with me.

After briefly pointing at me once more, he grinned and moved his finger to tap his right cheek. Oh, yes… he was very cocky in that uniform.

"Give him a kiss for good luck," Alice teased, nudging me with her elbow.

Wanting to lay an official claim to the first-string running back, I took Alice's advice. I laughed a little as Edward made a show of reaching to catch my kiss mid air. It hadn't escaped my notice that more than a few cameras were trained on our little exchange. I sent a smug smirk to the group of obnoxious girls next to us. I fought my inner child and was pleased that I won because she wanted to stick her tongue out and chant 'neener-neener-neener!'

"Charity case," they established with decisive nods.

"Sweethearts, you can think whatever you want to make yourselves feel better. But the fact of the matter is that he was talking to me and not a single one of you pieces of trash. And it's forty-five fucking degrees out here. I think your mini-skirts and baby tees scream 'desperate to get laid' rather than 'sexy.' You might as well wear a shirt that says 'free blow jobs.'"

That was a little mean and uncalled for, but I was tired of the pretty girls thinking I didn't deserve Edward's attention because I don't look like the type of girl with enough confidence to dance on poles. I insulted them, so sue me. They scoffed, either too vapid to think of a witty retort or they saw some sense in my observation. I'd like to think it was the latter because a few of them actually had the sense to wrap their jackets around their bodies.

"Amen, Bells. Amen," Emmett acknowledged with a laugh. The wannabe Holly Madison idiotically took it as her cue to tactlessly flirt with Emmett. However, after one scathing nobody-will-find-your-body look from Rosalie she backed off. Foolish as she was, the fake blond called the real one a few choice words after she was satisfied she was safe within her haven of drones.

"Come over and say that to my face, bitch!" Rosalie snarled from the cage of Emmett's arms. She was stressed out from her classes and wanted to release the tension into someone's face. Holly paled and scampered down the stands, attempting nonchalance by stating that she wanted a Diet Coke. The beauty queen bully was obviously not used to having her actions contested.

"Do any of you have anything else to say?" Rose glared at the rest of the sheep. They shook their heads and glued their eyes to the empty field. The group looked absolutely lost without their "fearless" leader.

"Bella…"

"What?" I asked as I plunged into my cavernous purse for my gloves. Like I said, it was forty-five degrees out.

"Bella…" Alice nudged.

"What, Alice?"

"Look…"

I followed the line of her slender arm, down to her bony finger and beyond to what she was pointing at. Edward was holding a sign decked out with glitter. In curly cursive only Alice was capable of, it read: "Go to dinner with me, Bella?" The hot pink glittering text was bordered with purple glitter hearts and flowers.

"What the f—where the hell did that come from? Is that even allowed?" I asked with my eyes wide open in shock and horror. "Is that what you wanted the poster board for last night?" I hissed at Alice. The fans let out a resounding 'aww', a few shouted out "say yes!" or "forget her, I'll go!"

"Uh huh," she said simply with a mission-accomplished smirk. "He said he wanted to get your attention in a way that won't be interpreted as something else, something you can't miss. I took it upon myself to add the flamboyance. It's my job as a big sister to humiliate my little brother."

"He couldn't have just asked me in person?" I asked blushing into my coat as my eyes darted around to the people who were searching the stands for Bella.

"He did… last week. We _all_ ended up going to dinner, remember? You insisted on it. We couldn't back out because you knew none of us had plans that night."

"Oh…" I said as comprehension dawned on my face. "Well, how was I supposed to know? His exact words were: 'Wanna get something to eat?' I assumed he was speaking to all of us since we were all hanging out in my living room."

"Yeah… he can be a little dense when it comes to you; says the first thing on his mind rather than thinking before speaking. It took him a little recovery time to work up the courage to ask again."

"And what if I say 'no'?"

"Bella, if you say that, then he'll have pity dates lined up until he graduates. Who could resist a cute, sweetie pie jock? I _know_ you don't want that."

I growled a bit, knowing that the gaggle of blonds next to me won't hesitate to jump his bones in the locker room and probably offer up his very first orgy.

"What if that's exactly what I want?" I asked in defiance.

"Please… I see you making goo-goo eyes at each other when you think no one is looking."

"Nuh... we don't make eyes at each other." Alice gave me an expression with a sarcastic inflection that said "sure you don't."

"Well, don't leave him hanging! He looks worried… and a little green."

I was embarrassed with all the attention, with all those damn cameras and eyes on the two of us. I bit my lip and gave him a small nod because who was I kidding? I wanted that date to happen. I wanted Edward. He didn't seem to grasp my small gesture, so I sucked it up and gave him two thumbs up and nodded my head rapidly. He smiled brightly in return and did a little end zone victory dance. And then I remembered I had just accepted a date with Edward Cullen by giving him two thumbs up with my mouth hanging open during a nationally televised event. And, yes, I saw those camera lenses aimed straight at my face. _I am such a loser._ Really? It couldn't have been more flirty or sexy or bold? No, evidently, all I was capable of was acting like a star-struck idiot.

The head coach reprimanded him for his little show, but nothing wiped the smile off of his face. The noise died down to a hush as the offense and defense captains of each team made their way mid-field with a referee. UW won the coin toss and elected to receive.

:::

The first two quarters were over and my throat was raw from screaming my encouragement. The girls and I had decided to duck out of the second quarter a little early to beat the rush to the concession stands for halftime. It had been a grueling first half where both teams fought hard to only allow one touchdown and an extra point; they were tied at seven. The fans had been on the edge of their seats, unwilling to leave, even if it was to relieve their bladders, for fear of missing something epic.

"What does Em want on his hot dog?" I asked as we fell into one of many lines.

"Everything," they said simultaneously.

"Right, stupid question…"

With that confirmation, we began to order: five Cokes; three hotdogs with mustard and ketchup, one with a lot of relish, another with a little relish and onions, and the last with all of the above plus jalapenos; a cheeseburger – hold the onions, extra pickles, easy on the mustard; and nachos with extra cheese.

As soon as we had received our last item, we began bobbing and weaving through the thickening crowd, in a hurry to get back to our seats. And then it happened. My ongoing curse struck again. I crashed into someone. Actually, from the look on her face, she crashed into me… on purpose. There she stood in all her 5'8 superior glory, Gianna King looking as hostile as ever.

"What the hell is your problem?" I asked, bewildered, after watching Alice's nachos run down my camel-colored peacoat and onto my black leather riding boots. If she thought I was going to apologize to her for bumping into me, she had another thing coming.

"I get that you're Makenna's friend and you want to protect her feelings, but I'm not sorry I told her off! What kind of self-respecting girl tells a guy she wants to fuck while he looked like he had his girlfriend at his side?"

"Aww, I'm so sorry. Are you really that pathetic that you can't stand to have a little healthy competition? Afraid he'll see you as the waste of space that you are?" She asked in faux sympathy, her herd of sheep behind her snickered.

"Talk to her like that again and I'll knock you flat on your ass," Alice growled. I held her back and advised her and Rosalie to stay out of it. I didn't need them to fight all my battles for them to prove that they were on my side.

"Why don't you tell Makenna to quit hiding behind you and come talk to me if she has a problem?"

"Little girl, Kenna has nothing to do with why I would have no qualms about ripping you to shreds," she spat.

"Again… WHAT THE HELL IS YOUR PROBLEM? I don't understand why you hate me so much when all you know about me is my name! I didn't know you enough to pass judgment, but Tyler _seemed_ to love you and I trusted his judgment… now I can see that it's ridiculously flawed because you are one of the biggest bitches I've ever met."

We've gathered quite a crowd, yet I didn't let the audience's fascination with arguments and fights deter me from finding out why I was on the receiving end of her lethal glare.

"I don't ever want to hear his name coming out from your mouth," she hissed lowly.

"That's what this is all about? Tyler? Why… wait a minute, are you jealous? He spends Tuesday and Thursday afternoons tutoring me. Big fucking deal! If you have a problem with that, then that shit is on you. He's a good guy and you should learn to trust him.

"Besides, _you_ broke off the engagement before he even started talking me. If you want to find out where all your problems originated from, I suggest you look in the mirror first. You've got to be out of your fucking mind if you think _I_ caused _you_ to call off the wedding."

"See, that's where you're wrong, little girl. You're ground zero for all my problems."

"Is everything alright, ladies?"

"Of course, sir," Gianna replied, snapping her attention to the burly security guard. "I was just apologizing to my friend here." She laced her arm around my shoulders and squeezed; a silent message for me to play along. I did. Being officially escorted off the premises was not my idea of fun.

The guard eyed me critically, waiting for my response as it was obvious from my coat that I was the injured party.

"We're fine, sir. We were only talking about the bill for this," I finally answered, firmly pressing my hand to the cheesy mess. "She insisted on me choosing between her buying me a new coat or pay for dry cleaning."

In a sense of false camaraderie, I moved my hand behind her as if we were two best friends and began patting greasy, yellow handprints onto her ivory cashmere sweater. I rubbed the cheese into the fibers for good measure. Gianna's grasp on my upper arm tightened painfully; she strongly believed in long nails and using them as weapons.

"Alright," he said, eyeing us dubiously, "you girls stay out of trouble. I'd hate to kick you out."

"Yes, sir," she chimed.

"Thank you," I said.

He backed away with his brown eyes still trained on us. As soon as he was far enough away with his back turned, she shoved me off to a distance where my own stubby claws wouldn't scratch her pretty face.

"This isn't over," she snarled quietly, moving past me to intentionally shove Rosalie with her shoulder. Rosalie, never one to back down from a threat, grabbed Gianna by her high ponytail and threw her into Tyler's arms.

"Do you always have to start something?" He asked Gianna, his voice laced with exasperation. "Fuck, Gia, I let you out of my sight for ten minutes and you go and start shit! I told you not to go looking for trouble!"

She must have seen Edward holding up the sign with my name on it and put two and two together.

"Bella, again, I am really, really sorry about all of this. I have no idea what's gotten into her these past few months."

"I do. The very root of my problem is–"

"Can it, Gia!" He hissed. "God," he said, weariness creeping into his voice, "let's go. We're leaving."

"No! I'm not gonna be run out of here by her! I drove here with my friends and I'm not gonna leave them hanging. And it looks to me like they don't want to leave yet, so deal with it."

Tyler, already fed up with her childishness, reached into her purse and grabbed her car keys. He threw it towards a short brunette and instructed her to have the car back by ten o'clock tonight. "Bella, I swear I'll replace your jacket as soon as possible. Something tells me that didn't get there by accident," he said as he began dragging his girlfriend away.

"What the fuck?" She shrieked. "Over my dead body! You are _not_ wasting any more money—" she was cut off by Tyler's glower.

"See ya Thursday, Bella," he called out still having an angry silent conversation with his girl.

He's always been so gentle and patient. But, every time he's around one of the King siblings he turns into this glaring, lethal stranger.

"That relationship is doomed to fail," Alice murmured. Rose and I concurred.

:::

The Huskies were defeated by the Trojans with a score of 14-17. It wasn't that the UW football team sucked or didn't put in any effort; the win was only a mere three points. It was that the Trojans were the better team _today_; UW had proclaimed victory over USC at their last game at the end of October.

Needless to say, the fans were bummed out and fuming. I feared for the safety of Trojan supporters because their dumbasses would not hold their tongues. Gloating would only guarantee busted lips and bruised eyes. And then I feared for _my_ safety when a girl had accused me of jinxing the game with my presence; she was one of the girls who had suggested Edward forget about me and date her instead. Essentially, I was Jessica Simpson to his Tony Romo which was a ridiculous notion because Edward played a good game – _as a running back_ – and so did their QB. We got out of there tout de suite when other irrationals began agreeing with her.

Alice shot off a text to Edward, giving him the shorthand explanation of the growing animosity against me and told him that we'd see him at home; we were supposed to wait for him near the locker room entrance.

Alice had a plan for either result: win – invite the team for a party at the condo, or lose – a junk food dinner at their place with movies only involving death, destruction and gore.

Edward made it home two hours after we had walked through the doors. He looked to be exhausted, yet in unusually high spirits. Odd…

"Everything alright?" I asked tentatively. You know how some people look so elated to the point of lunacy one minute, but breakdown in a fit of tears and rage the next? Yeah, I was a little afraid of that smile of his that showed all of his teeth.

"Perfect," he said softly.

"Dude… you guys lost," Emmett enunciated in case Edward didn't catch a glimpse of the scoreboard or already get an earful from his coach.

"Well, it's not like I'm losing my football scholarship, so there's always next year," he answered, shrugging it off like that L on their record didn't matter.

"He's lost his damn mind," Rosalie muttered, turning away to grab a handful or Red Vines. The rest, still looking bewildered with Edward's behavior, followed Rosalie's example and settled down to watch _Hostel_.

As I turned, my mind already on the fondue pot with melted chocolate, pretzels and graham crackers, Edward placed his hand on my shoulder.

"Next week? After finals?" He asked and paused, waiting for my answer.

"What's after finals? What are you talking about?" I asked. He looked saddened by my question.

"Our date…" he said quietly, eyes glued to the bowl of colorful M&Ms.

"Oh… Oh, yeah! Right! Yes! Um, is Saturday good for you?" With all that had happened with Gianna and Tyler and then UW's loss and my subsequent persecution of being a jinx, it kind of slipped my mind.

He smiled that smile that made me want to tear off my clothes and lie flat on my back. His green eyes sparkled like stars as they looked into mine. Oh, no wait… it was just the track lighting bouncing beams of light off of my locket and into his eyes. Well, at least he still looked at me like he won the lottery.

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A/N: The weeks went by pretty quick in this chapter; if it annoys any of you... my bad. I don't have the patience to write about every single detail of their lives. I'd rather skim over the day-to-day and put more detail into the juicier parts of the story.

Sorry if you were looking for a football play-by-play. Watching sports and writing sports are two different things; I find the latter to be boring and way too technical to enjoy. I don't watch college ball. Never have, never will. I've never been to a football game by choice (little league, grade school, college or pro), so I just winged it on the concession stand stuff.

The 2010 Rose Bowl was played between the Ohio State Buckeyes and the Oregon Ducks. Buckeyes won the game 26-17. I don't presume to know anything about how the NCAA runs their programs, so I just threw in some teams that would have played each other.

Next chapter is date night in EPOV.

Thanks for reading! Drop me a review to let me know how you're feeling about this chapter!


	20. Chapter 20

**Oh, will you look at that... two updates in the same month. Hmm... things must be getting interesting. Thank you for reading and reviewing last chapter. I just want everyone to know that I [HEART] you all! I do remember that I owe a reader the rest of the outtakes; I didn't forget, I just don't know where my flash drive is. It doesn't help that the thing is smaller than my thumb and my workspace is highly unorganized.**

**I always feel like I'm forgetting something before I post, so if you find something that isn't supposed to be there or something that should be there just ignore it and pretend it was perfect ;)**

**Happy reading!**

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Never assume the obvious is true.  
- _William Safire_

_

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_

When I had begged Alice for her help, the glittery monstrosity was not what I had in mind. Maybe some flowers and some romantic mushy stuff girls like, but definitely not… that. She kind of sprang it on me before I left for pregame practice. I didn't have much choice in the matter. Emmett, Jasper and Rosalie (along with my teammates) would undoubtedly call me a pussy and tell me to man-up. Asking Mom or Dad to help me ask Bella out was all kinds of embarrassing. Alice was the only person I could count on to help me through this without laughing first.

I think the only reason why she hadn't left me on my own was because she was tired of my procrastination. She wanted Bella and me to be together more than I did. I had heard her squealing about weddings and big happy families. I had reminded her that Bella wasn't mine… officially.

To be honest, I purposely left the sign near the front door. There was no way in Hell I would be associated with that shit. But, Alice called to remind me of what I intentionally left behind and the consequences of not doing as she said, so I trudged my ass back upstairs to grab it. I didn't know what was more fangirl-like than that poster, but I really didn't want to find out.

There was a big possibility of me catching hell from Coach if I ran out onto the field clutching the poster like it was my lifeline. So, as I arrived on the field, I passed the sign off to a twiggy, fiery redhead – by choice not genetics – by the name of Maggie Yang. She worked for the team as a sports medicine intern and was the one person who wouldn't give me shit for the stunt I was going to pull. Maggie was a hopeless romantic with a serious stalker crush on Liam, the first-string linebacker who came attached with a very jealous girlfriend, Siobahn.

We ran some drills and practiced hard, but made sure not to injure ourselves in the process. We took care of any sore muscles afterwards, showered and suited up. We listened to some inspirational spiel that had been said many times before and then waited for our cue.

I loved running out onto the field just before game time. The crowd's adrenalin usually fed my own. The noise, while making some players nervous wrecks, had always been a source of strength for me. The cheers from Huskies fans spurred me on to do great things on the field and the booing only made me want to silence the crowd by slaughtering their home team on the scoreboard. What can I say? I was a highly competitive football player.

I became focused on a singular goal; last week it was to kick Washington State's ass all over the field, today it was to get Bella to go out with me. But, if it didn't have to do with the game, I wasn't allowed to think about it. Not right now, anyway. The guys would jump my ass if I wasn't focused.

It was time for our pregame ritual. Some teams rub the big guy's bald head. Others pray for a successful outcome or recite inspiring speeches. We talked shit. It wasn't malicious or anything, it was more of a joke at someone's expense. It helped to loosen us up. Especially when the opposing team starts with their trash-talking. Especially after one of ours gets tackled into oblivion.

Usually, I'd join in on the ribbing, but my mind was elsewhere. There was only one thing that would put my mind at ease: an answer. However, I was unable to do anything about it until I stopped being a coward about it. What was the worst that could happen? She could say no and everyone watching – in the stands or at home – would know: national humiliation. If she said no, she could think it'll be too awkward to be in the same room as me and avoid me at all costs. I could lose of a friendship. Aww, fuck, this could end on bad terms.

Someone said something about someone's momma. They all had a good long laugh at that. The most I had managed was a strained smile before I turned my eyes to the crowd.

I felt her eyes on me. You know what I mean, that tingly, prickly feeling you get on the back of your neck and that shiver that travels up your spine. Only with her it was like her warm breath traveled across the nape of my neck as she laughed softly. It took very little time to pinpoint her location once I felt her there.

No matter how many times I've looked at her, she was always a sight to behold. A black turtleneck under a light brown coat with her hair done up in a pony tail and that poofy hair thing she occasionally does on top of her head. She smiled at me and I think I stopped breathing for a minute. Alice waved wildly at me, attempting to get my attention. She mouthed the words "relax" and "have fun." So, I tried.

I waved at them, Em blew me a kiss, and I returned it. A crap load of girls I didn't recognize reached out to catch it and put it away in their pockets or inside their shirts for safe keeping. I shook my head and laughed at their desperate attempts to be cute. I tried not to stare at any of the girls that were sitting in the first row. Their flirtatious smirks and they way they were playing with the collars of their low-cut tops told me that they were ready to let me see the goods.

I repeated the action, this time intending Bella to be the recipient because how could I pass up an opportunity like that? When was the next time I'd get to put on a little show for her? She was here to watch me play and it was a miracle she had agreed in the first place. When begging and bribing hadn't worked, I had resorted to guilt-tripping her. I wanted her to be here, so sue me.

Bella didn't seem to grasp what I was trying to do, so I looked deep her in the eyes – or I tried to, anyway – and mouthed her name. She looked around uncertainly before pointing at herself. I smiled. Of course I meant her, there wasn't any other girl out there worth this much work. I teased her a bit, knowing her bashfulness wouldn't allow her to blow me a kiss in front of the cameras. Imagine my surprise when she proved me wrong after a little nudging from Ali. I made a show of reaching up to catch it, making sure what belonged to me didn't land on someone else's cheek or lips. She turned to the group of girls next to her and smiled superiorly. I could practically hear the girls scoffing at her. She had done it to show up those girls, I surmised. Was she already marking me as hers? I hoped that the answer was an unquestionable yes.

I found Maggie standing off to the side, watching Liam as he stretched to prevent cramping and pulling muscles. It wouldn't have looked so shady if she wasn't peeking at him from behind the Gatorade cooler. She could have followed in her colleagues' footsteps and provided some helpful tips for the players to prevent serious injury.

_Eventually, she'll poke her head in the shower stalls and hide in the lockers._

"Mags," I stage-whispered in her ear from behind her. She startled and immediately put her hands to work by taking more paper cups out of the bag and stacking them neatly on the table – not what she was hired to do.

"Yeah?" She asked a little too casually with a quick glance over her shoulder.

"Can I get the poster?"

"Yeah, yeah, it's right…" she trailed off as she ducked underneath the table. "Here!" She punctuated the word by thrusting the rolled up sign into the air.

"Thanks. I owe you one." I gave her a smile before returning to the spot Bella had seen me in. I got the okay from Alice and began to unfurl the one thing that had the power to crush me today.

_Oh, god, she's gonna say no. Please, don't say no, _was all I could think as I held up Alice's feminine monster creation. Hundreds of pairs of eyes turned to me as I waited for her to just glance my way. This was a bad idea.

I stood there with that stupid sign in my hands waiting for this girl to put me out of my misery. Her eyes were huge as she looked at me for a second before snapping her head towards Alice to argue with her. This was a fucking horrible idea.

I was going to clear my agenda tonight and replace it with: bonfire with Ali's clothes; toss in credit and bank cards.

She said yes! Holy fuck, she said YES! To ME! I couldn't contain my delirium if I tried. I did my touchdown dance – one that I've done many times this season – knowing that cameras were on the both of us. That little display was probably going up on SportsCenter.

"Cullen!" Coach barked, a scowl permanently engraved on his red face.

"Yes, sir?" I asked, unable to wipe the smile off of mine.

"Five laps around the field after the game." He regarded my elated facial expression with a sneer before adding, "make it ten, Princess."

I wondered for a second if he was in the doghouse yet again. Everyone on the team had warned him that a three-year fully paid gym membership was not an appropriate anniversary gift… even if she had flat out told him that she wanted to lose some weight. Fuck, even I knew it was a terrible gift to give a lady. It was like saying, 'yeah, I think you could stand to lose some weight as well.' Coach knew his football inside and out, but he was an idiot when it came to his wife.

"Yes, sir," I answered, still grinning.

"If you don't want me to make it twenty around, I suggest you wipe off that sissy-boy smirk and put on your game face, Cupcake!" He bellowed like a PMSing drill sergeant. I fought the urge to wipe my face after he _showered_ me with his words.

"Yes, ma—sir."

He glared evilly before turning his back to me, muttering about coal and money.

:::

We lost. That shit stung. It stung even more when Coach _didn't_ yell at us afterwards. He merely gave us a well-rehearsed speech about us doing our best and there was always next year and that he was proud of us. Without him yelling at us, he almost sounded defeated. It was the last game of the season for us, but he sounded like it would be the last one for him period. It was disturbing. That shit still didn't change the fact that I was happy.

The following Sunday I had taken a whole three hours out of my studying time to do a little Christmas shopping from the comfort of my couch. I had chosen the expedited shipping option on every damn thing I bought.

I didn't have to worry about Mom and Dad's gift. Em, Ali and I had pitched in to buy them a pair of open-ended plane tickets to Hawaii. Alice had already been to the travel agency and straightened everything out with them. She currently had them locked in the fireproof/waterproof safe that Dad had insisted we buy.

For Emmett, I had decided to go the practical route. He had been talking about upgrading his laptop with a new graphics card and more memory, so I had bought him the best of whatever would fit into his laptop. A LEGO flash drive because I like to remind him that he got kicked out of a children's store where playing with the LEGOs was encouraged. I also took the impractical route and sprung for the world's largest gummy bear. I could almost imagine the look of determination on his face as he stared that five-pound fucker in the eye. Maybe I could make a bet with him that he couldn't eat the whole thing in two hours.

Alice – I had decided on a wire dress mannequin complete with a stand for her projects; I knew Bella and Rose were tired of being poked with needles. Art supplies that I knew she would go nuts over; contrary to what she might think, I didn't block out the sound of her voice all the time. A new leather art portfolio, her name stitched on one corner. Some frames to commemorate the designs that had made its way into society. And something that she would go absolutely batshit for: Hello Kitty perfume in a Hello Kitty shaped bottle. Why she loves that stuff is beyond me. Apparently, girls never grow out of the love for that character since there were so many other items that were not suitable for young children.

As for Jasper… well, it was rare for us to give each other serious Christmas gifts. I couldn't ruin the tradition. I had found this website that had all these gifts for psychologists. The first thing I had seen was a mug. Now, Jasper would probably never use it, but I couldn't resist. It read:

"Pessimist: the glass is half empty  
Optimist: the glass is half full  
Psychologist: how does the glass feel about the water?"

I had also bought a framed enlarged image of a Rorschach test; the ink blot had looked like a giant spider to me. And a shirt that read: "Nature/Nurture: either way it's your parents fault." Thinking along the same lines of Emmett's giant gummy bear, I found a giant gummy worm. It was just too bad it wasn't shaped like a dick. I got it anyway. I had splurged on a new vintage-looking record player; he had inherited his father's record collection and always complained that he had nothing to play them on. Jasper certainly had the money to buy it for himself, but he didn't think it was fair to throw around money just because he had his parent's financial backing. Rosalie had to earn every penny in her bank account by entering the workforce.

From what I understood, Charlotte had a shit fit when Peter had suggested an allowance for Rosalie to keep her focused on school rather than having her attention split between classes and work. In Charlotte's mind, that wasn't a very good argument. Last year, Rosalie had stayed in the dorms and used her own money to buy necessities. This year, they had set Jasper up in an apartment and started a monthly allowance. Rosalie moved in and Jasper buys most of the necessities. Charlotte closely monitored the activity. If Jasper withdrew more than three-hundred dollars in a month, Charlotte would be up his ass about it and ask for the receipts he had spent the cash on. She was hell bent on making sure Rosalie didn't get any more money than what she was already "taking" to stay in school. She was definitely a piece of work.

After Thanksgiving, Jasper got a part-time job and had opened up a joint bank account with Rosalie just to spite his mother.

Rosalie was probably the easiest to shop for. She was perfectly happy with gift cards. In fact, that was all she had wanted from anyone who wanted to give her a gift. That or money… but money just seemed too impersonal. I had purchased gift cards to Neiman Marcus, Sephora and Free People. I had never heard of the last one, but I trusted Alice's suggestions.

I knew what I had wanted to get for Bella, but I wasn't sure about how she'd take it if I gave her jewelry. So, while I was making up my mind, I had ordered a brown leather journal embossed with a damask pattern with gold-edged sheets. Evidently, nothing was going to stop me from giving her jewelry. My fingers had flown across the keyboard to log into the Tiffany & Co. website. I had chosen a sterling silver bracelet with a heart lock charm. Yeah, don't judge… I would have ordered the gold one except that it was way beyond my current budget. I mean $3,000 dollars for a gold charm bracelet with no diamonds or stones whatsoever was a bit extreme. I had felt bad for not wanting to spend three grand (go figure), so I had settled on purchasing two more charms; one was key (naturally, since the original charm was a lock) and the other was a four-leaf clover because everyone could always use some luck. Especially Bella.

By the time I was done with my purchases, I was still alone in the condo. Alice and Rosalie had dragged two very unwilling guys to brave the turbulent sea of Christmas shoppers. I definitely hadn't envied them for having girlfriends in that instance. I fucking hated crowds like that.

Bella had been holed up at some guy's house; he had been "tutoring" her in math. I didn't know of any guy who had been willing to tutor on a weekend if he hadn't been expecting something in return. Couldn't see why they hadn't gone to the library or some coffeehouse like regular people. They could have just hung out at the condo with me. I wouldn't have minded the company.

Okay, yeah, I get why they had chosen his place rather than a public one. It was the same reason I had chosen to stay home; we hadn't been the only students studying for finals and that meant anyplace dry and quiet had been crowded with college students. According to Bella, she had a hard time studying in her own place because there were too many distractions. And, yes, I would have minded if they had studied at my place. I really wouldn't have gotten any work done if I had spent the entire time watching Bella interact with her tutor. Based on my eavesdropping that one night in Forks, Bella thought he was hot. And they had been at his house… alone… in private.

I had done my best to put it out of my mind after I had snapped my mechanical pencil in half, thinking about what they could be doing. I had been behind enough as it was. Between classes, football practice, games (home and out of town) and spending time with family and friends, it was a miracle that I hadn't flunked out already.

It didn't really matter if I had. Mom and Dad would have found a way for me to stay in school. But they were already taking care of Emmett and Alice's tuition, not to mention the condo. I didn't need to add unnecessary financial burden. Imagine my relief when I had learned that I had added two A's and two B's to my GPA by the end of the quarter.

:::

Alice had informed me that I would have to learn how to romance Bella on my own because she was not going to spend her lifetime holding my hand, telling me all the right things to do and say. I almost had a panic attack because I had guaranteed her that I would fuck it up somehow and Bella would end up hating me. As a result of my worrying, Al had given me an early Christmas gift, a small, thick, red book titled _1000 Romantic Things to Say and Do_ by Alice Stuart. I had read that shit cover-to-cover and studied it like the Bible after my last exam of the quarter. I had to say… it was insightful stuff.

I had bought red tulips at the florist. Why break tradition? She had loved the white ones I had bought for her weeks ago. And the book said something about red tulips being a declaration of love or revealing oneself as a secret admirer. The flowers were a deep red with a wide wine-colored iridescent ribbon wrapped around the vibrant green stems multiple times before tying itself off in a perfect bow. Yeah, that shit was perfect.

"Alice!"

"What, Edward? We're on our way out!" She yelled back in annoyance. Can't say that I blamed her; I had been asking her questions every five minutes.

She and Jasper were on their way to a date night of their own. He was set to fly out first thing in the morning to meet his parents in Colorado. They wanted some time together before the holidays separated them.

Mom had offered Rose an invitation to stay with us in Chicago this Christmas. We had provided the extra ticket. Esme had said that the holidays were about family and Rosalie was practically her daughter. She should not feel obligated to spend the holidays with her estranged father just because they share DNA. According to Mom, Charlotte just about had an aneurysm when she had found out that Rosalie's plane ticket to Los Angeles could not be refunded.

We were celebrating New Year's Eve in Forks while Jasper and Bella would be getting back on January second.

"I need your help!"

"This is the last time I'm helping you today! I can't hold your hand thro—" she cut herself off as she threw open my door. "What the hell are you wearing?"

"Clothes…"

"Yeah, I know that numb nuts. I meant why the hell do you look like you're going to prom? Where are you taking her?"

"I don't know, yet," I answered with a shrug. "I need help. Should I wear the black tie with the dark red shirt or the blue one with the black shirt?"

"Yo—you don't know… where you're going?"

"Not at the moment. Ouch! What the hell is your problem, Alice?" She had just smacked the back of my head.

"You're supposed to have everything figured out by now! You're picking up Bella in twenty minutes and you don't have a plan yet?"

"Damn, chill out! I have reservations. In fact, I have two. I just don't know which one to take her to." Alice made a hand gesture to tell me to keep talking. "Uh, there's one at Canlis and another at Barolo Ristorante."

"They're both kinda stuffy, if you have to dress up like that, don't you think?"

"I don't know. I just want Bella to have a good time."

"Edward, you know her. Does she seem like the kind of girl who cares about fancy dinners?"

"No?"

"Was that a question or an answer?"

"An answer?" I asked, scrunching my brows.

"Edward!"

"What? Why can't you just tell me what to do? You know I'm no good at this dating stuff."

It was true. I didn't really know what to do with a girlfriend, except the obvious. Before I was legally able to drive, dinner dates were usually at the diner or, if I wanted to go all out, at The Lodge. As soon as I got my license, Port Angeles offered up more things to do, but none of my dates had ever included flowers or wooing or being sweet. It hadn't really mattered; the girls had never complained and I had never seen a need for it. But, Bella was different. She ought to be romanced and I was virtually incompetent in that department.

Alice stared at me for a minute before opening her mouth. "I saw that flowers you bought. They're cute, but why'd you get tulips?"

"Because the book told me to."

"I read those pages, Edward. The book only gave you information about flowers. Again, why tulips?"

"Because they're pretty?"

"Yes, Edward, they're pretty," she nodded her head, patronizing me. "But, why didn't you get some expensive, gigantic, over-the-top arrangement with nothing but exotic flowers? You mentioned before that she deserves the best."

"Because that just says that I'm a douche and I'm trying too hard to get her to like me. And it's not really Bella's style. It isn't mine either."

Alice stared at me, waiting for the light bulb to go off above my head. And then it did. "Oh…"

"Just because Bella deserves the best of everything doesn't mean you have to spend a fortune winning her over. You were an asshole to her, but by some divine providence you got her to like you enough to date you. And let me tell you, it wasn't for your money; she has her own. Bella values moments, relationships and emotional connections."

Something told me to listen carefully because she wasn't only talking about dinner tonight.

"Relax, Edward. Just be yourself and have fun tonight! She likes you for you, not what your bank account can buy her. Now, don't call me unless it's an emergency… scratch that, don't call me unless someone's seriously injured," she ordered, brushing non-existent dirt off of my shoulders. "Gotta go… Have fun and smile! You look constipated!"

I gave her a small smile. "Eh, that'll have to do," she quipped.

"Wait, what do I wear?"

"The plain dark green Magnolia button-down and the black diagonal-stripped tie; it brings out your eyes. And I recommend Barolo; their clam linguine is awesome and atmosphere is a little more laid back than Canlis. Canlis just seems too hoity-toity for people our age. Jasper and I went there once… the employees were nice, but the customers were a little too judgmental for my taste. They don't whisper as softly as they think."

Flowers in hand, I stopped at the entry mirror and gave myself a final once-over to make sure there wasn't anything stuck between my teeth or anything hanging out of my nose. I tried my best to tame that damn cowlick on the back of my head, too.

Finally across that hall and in front of her door, I knocked. I forced myself to loosen my death grip on the delicate stems and took a deep breath, preparing myself for the moment she opened that door. Three minutes later, she still hasn't answered her door, so I rang the bell this time. I didn't want to seem like some impatient jerk, so I waited five more minutes to start knocking. Nothing.

"Bella?" I said, knocking on her door again. Fifteen minutes had already passed; I think I was entitled to a little frustration. I called her cell phone. It went straight to voicemail.

I started to get a little worried. I knew enough of Bella's character to acknowledge that she wouldn't just stand me up. If she didn't want to go, she'd at least try to give me a lame excuse. I kept trying to reach her, but each call was met by that voice that told me that the owner of the cell phone could not be reached.

I paced the hallway, imagining that she had slipped getting out of the shower and was currently unconscious on her bathroom floor. It didn't make sense why her phone was turned off, though.

Alice had told me that Bella had gone to the mall earlier in the day; maybe she had more errands to run afterwards and got stuck in traffic. It wasn't very far-fetched. It was the holiday season and it always seemed like everyone was out and about in this part of Seattle on the weekends. She also probably forgot to recharge her phone and the battery was dead. That seemed like the more plausible idea.

However, I couldn't shake the feeling that there was something else going on, yet I returned home anyway. There were knots in my stomach as I laid the tulips in the empty fridge. I just contributed the feeling to hunger because I haven't eaten anything since breakfast. To mollify the growing unrest in my stomach I warmed up a plate of pizza rolls; enough to stop the grumbling, but not enough to satisfy the hunger. I didn't want to take Bella out on a full stomach – that was just rude.

_So is standing someone up…_

I was a big ass ball of nervous fucking energy. I flipped through two-hundred channels while cramming another plate of pizza rolls down my throat and rearranged the furniture only to put them back into its original positions. Something was definitely wrong. Reservations for dinner were two hours ago and I hadn't gotten one single phone call from Bella. Trust me when I say that isn't how she operates. She wasn't the kind of girl who enjoyed mind fucking you and leaving you to wonder "what the hell just happened?"

I called Alice to let her know that Bella temporarily fell off the face of the planet. She was worried, but I didn't want to ruin her date with Jasper. So, I told her that I would keep trying Bella's phone and I would call her if anything came up. Alice was as just as impatient as me. She had called every twenty minutes for an update, she hung up with no new information. This was just like the time Bella had run off while we were in Forks, except Seattle was much bigger and had more places she could have run to. There was nothing significant to Bella about any parts of this city so that I could maybe narrow my search if it came to that.

I was near the front door, organizing the various objects in the catchall (that's what Alice had called it, in my opinion it looked like a fucking purple bowl) when I heard quiet murmuring on the other side of the door. Now, it could have been anyone. Emmett could have called it an early night and brought Rose back. It could have been Alice and Jasper; the last time she had called she had said that she was coming home. Apparently, Alice's worry over Bella's safety overrode her ability to think about anything else. We also weren't the only tenants on the floor. That shit didn't stop me from swinging the door wide open and stepping into the hallway.

"Edward!" She gasped. "Oh… you… you scared me," she said, her voice wavering.

I tried to form a response, I really did. But, all my attention was trained on that arm around her shoulders.

"I'm sorry," she whispered. "I… I was… I just—" she stuttered as she began breathing deeply.

"You alright?" He asked her.

"Who the hell are you?" I demanded as I watched him rub my girl's arm in what was supposed to be a soothing manner.

"Tyler… just wanted to make sure Bella made it up alright," he said, pulling her closer to his body.

Tyler? Who the fuck is Tyler? Where the hell did she meet this guy? I've been pulling my hair out, worrying about her and she's been with him this entire time? I looked at her disbelievingly. Her head was down and her hair formed a curtain around her face, but I could clearly see the tears falling from her eyes and onto the carpeted hallway floor… from being caught sneaking home with someone who's not your date, no doubt. _Tyler _tightened his arm around when she moved her hand to swipe at her tears.

"Bella, what…?" I asked.

She tilted her head slightly to look at me, sniffed and then wiped more tears from her eyes. She opened her mouth, but she didn't answer. She closed her mouth and looked down again. She wasn't going to answer.

I turned and marched my ass back into the condo, shaking my head. I began to put all my strength behind slamming the door so hard that the thick walls would shake; it would demonstrate the lengths of my anger since my mouth seemed to stop working.

How could… Why would… Fuck! I couldn't even think straight! Was the whole thing some kind of elaborate scheme to break me for how I treated her in the past? Well, mission fucking accomplished! It worked. I obviously didn't know the difference between genuine and deception. And I obviously knew nothing of Bella's character.

The only satisfaction I would get out of this whole mess was if I slammed the door in her face.

Too bad that shit never happened.

* * *

**Well... date night sucked ass. Bella better have a good explanation for showing up three hours late with another guy on her arm.**

**If you're interested in that Hello Kitty perfume bottle, look on the Sephora website. I want one.**

**If you haven't noticed already, I have changed my pen name. Lucky Clarion is my porn name ;) You know... name of your first pet and the street you grew up on. I wish I had my cousin's. Her name is Perky Newkirk. Hah awesome. What's yours?**

**Did you know that if all my readers gave me a review for this one little chapter, you guys would push me over 800? I'm not trying to give you guys an ultimatum, I'm just saying. I promise I will NEVER withhold the next chapter if I don't make it to a certain number, I strongly dislike when authors do that. **

**Well, in any case let me know how you feel about this chapter! I would love to hear your theories, rants, general thoughts and/or porn names (I might use them=D) Come to think of it, maybe some porn movie titles as well. Tanya will be visiting, remember? And who knows what the boys like to watch?**

**Thanks for reading!**


	21. Chapter 21

**Ummm… Hi. My bad.**

**Let's get started, shall we?**

* * *

The assumption that seeing is believing makes us susceptible to visual deceptions.  
_-Kathleen Hall Jamieson_

* * *

The week had started out nail-bitingly stressful, but I was determined to end it on a high note with that date of mine.

Exams were a bitch to get through, but my final scores allowed me to pass the semester with a 3.5 GPA. My professors were eager to get through the stacks of exams and start their holidays off right, so my grades had been immediately ready to view online.

I was a little pissed with myself for earning a mediocre C grade in math, but it was passing and I never have to listen to Professor DeSantos's acerbic voice lecturing me on the duller points of college algebra ever again.

I had been so focused on passing final exams that I had completely forgotten about Christmas gifts. Luckily, I had already prepared a list of gift suggestions to buy for each person. Yesterday, I had gotten through the bulk of it while out with Alice and Rosalie. Today, I was crossing off the remaining names… well, I was trying to.

Rosalie was the easiest to shop for. I had decided to replace the Louis purse I had ruined, but it was attached to a price tag that was half of my bank balance. So, I settled on a Tory Burch satchel. I remembered what I did to her now-ruined white purse and added a matching wallet.

As for the others, well, cheerful Christmas shopping became aggressive gift hunting. Maybe it was my shitty mood, but I couldn't find jack shit in any of the stores I had visited. The Pike and the local mall was a bust, so I decided on visiting the boutiques that lined the streets of downtown Seattle. I was tired, my clothes were damp and I regretted only having a salad for lunch. I was all around really fucking cranky.

Mom, Alice and Tanya were the hardest people to shop for. Mom and Alice because what can you give them that they don't already have in a different color? And Tanya was picky with everything – food, clothes, accessories, colors. She loved aqua, but it had to be the perfect shade or she wouldn't even consider touching it. Oh and she thinks gift cards are impersonal.

I love Tanya and all, but shit! On our last mall trip before she had left for Chicago, we had spent two hours looking for the perfect black lace bra and panty set – a goodbye present for her final high school boyfriend. She had liked the rhinestone detail on one, but not the ruffles. On another, she'd absolutely love the ruffles, but the bows were all wrong. Other sets had made her look like a "cheap slut," while others – according to her – weren't very flattering. She had ended up with a practically see-through red negligee with a plunging neckline.

I walked into a store with my fingers crossed, hoping to find anything. Fortunately, there were plenty of pretty things to look at. The store manager happily informed me most of their merchandise had been picked up around the world; the owner was a world traveler and usually came back with boxes full of her findings.

I picked up a glass vase. It had fiery orange and cobalt blue streaks, gold flecks, a lattice design engraved into the bulbous body, and sparkling red stones at each crossing. I thought it would be nice gift for Carlisle and Esme. My eyes bugged out and I nearly dropped the damn thing in surprise when I saw the price tag – $4,250. If I had been drinking coffee at the time, I was sure I'd have sprayed it everywhere. The manager informed me that the decanter and matching whiskey glasses were special ordered from a popular glass blower in Rome. The gold flecks were real – eighteen karats. Oh, and the red decorative stones? Rubies. I set it down gently and backed away, afraid I would topple the sparkling display over.

I drifted towards other parts of the store and smiled. It _was_ the perfect store for what I needed. For Alice and Tanya: a wooden, espresso-stained jewelry box with a metal filigree design and inlaid with mother of pearl. I grabbed an onyx and sterling silver chunky necklace and earrings the shop owner had picked up in Russia to add to Alice's gift, and a gold Tiffany-esque bracelet with an aquamarine stone that had originated from Tahiti for Tanya. For my mother: a white gold necklace with a diamond and lavender jade pendant and matching earrings. For Esme and Carlisle I decided on a Wedgewood crystal vase from the Vera Wang collection.

With all the names crossed off my list, I finally started the trek to my car. I still had a good two hours before Edward showed up at my door, but it would take me at least half an hour navigating through traffic. I wanted to put in a little effort into my appearance tonight. I knew how judgmental people could be. According to Rosalie, it was because of Edward that she had singled me out. Girls were catty when it came to him. Those girls at his last game were just further proof of it. I knew there were people who would tell me to ignore the haters and be happy with myself, but words do hurt. The wrong ones can ruin a night and my skin isn't as thick as I'd like it to be.

I didn't want to deal with that bullshit tonight. I didn't want this night to be perceived as a pity date in other people's eyes – me being the pitiful one. So, my usual half hour from start to finish was just not going to cut it. Maybe I could actually style my hair instead of letting it air dry. I was thinking I could put those hair appliances Renee had stocked my bathroom cabinets with to good use. I could do big, bouncy curls with some mascara, gloss and blush; sultry waves with cat-eye eyeliner and fire engine red lips; or sleek, straight hair with smoky eyes and nude lips. Shit. I didn't even know what I was going to wear!

It shouldn't be too hard finding something to wear; my closet was well-stocked. Renee made sure of that. The only problem was he didn't tell me where we were going, so I had no idea if I needed to be dressy casual or sporty casual. I certainly didn't want to be dressed for an art gallery opening while eating at some hole in the wall or be dressed in jeans and a cotton tee at a restaurant where they required a jacket and tie for service.

I hoped it wasn't the latter. Dining out with Renee and Phil kind of ruined the fine-dining experience for me. I had always felt like my fellow diners were always judging me. It was like they could smell the small town values on me. I was dining with a Cardinal and his perfect wife and daughter, I was the charity case. A poor orphan the Dwyers had taken pity on. People thought they were slick, sneaking looks at the Dwyers and then me before turning towards their companions to gossip.

Casual dining restaurants were more my pace. The atmosphere was more relaxed. Even though there were girls who judged me on my clothes, hair and makeup, most people minded their own businesses. Just the way I liked it.

As I walked toward the parking garage, I reminisced about Christmas mornings with Dad and Gran.

When Gran was still with us, every year she and I had set up camp in the living room waiting for Santa to arrive. I had never made it through a night and always woke up in my bed the next morning. I remembered how Gran would wake me with tinsel in my ear or on my nose and announce Santa had dropped by as I rubbed the sleep from my eyes.

After Gran had passed, Dad had insisted on keeping up traditions such as baking cookies for Santa. Instead of camping in, we had a "staked out" the fireplace. Even as I got older and Santa became nothing but a holiday icon, Dad had requested that I leave cookies out for Santa. When Christmas morning rolled around, the cookies were gone and there were present from Santa under the tree. Charlie had a bit of a sweet tooth.

I longed for our tradition of guessing what was inside before eagerly tearing into them. When I was ten years old, we had started a game: the one with the most correct guesses chose a breakfast meal that the loser would have to cook. Never lost a game. I had never wanted to make things harder on my dad, so I had usually chosen scrambled eggs, bacon and fresh strawberries – his specialty.

Afterwards, I would sit on the floor surrounded by torn gift wrapping while I sipped hot chocolate and watched Christmas movies while Dad lounged in his favorite recliner and waited for his turn to control the TV remote. Since Gran's passing, we began joining Dad's friends in La Push for Christmas dinner.

Our holiday traditions were joyous and sacred, it was a form of happiness that I could count on not to change as long as I lived in that house. Even Rosalie Hale and the cruelty she had inflicted hadn't been able touch me.

When that first Christmas without him had finally come, I had "woken up" from my walking coma like a Christmas miracle and I hated every damn thing. I had ranted about how everything was wrong; the decorations, the gifts, the traditions… _the people_. Instead of cinnamon permeating the air, the Dwyer mansion had smelled of pine. The whole house had looked like a damn designer-inspired Norman Rockwell painting with its perfect… everything. Vastly different from the mismatched cheap decoration I had used at home. I loathed it.

I had run through Renee and Phil's house tearing down all the festive decoration. I believe I even destroyed that stupid-looking gingerbread mansion in their formal living room. I ended up in an exhausted heap on my bed with a quilt – a gift from Gran – wrapped around me.

From there, things had just begun to snowball into one ugly incident after another.

After months of therapy and anti-depressants, the next Christmas was _slightly_ better – I hadn't tried to topple the gigantic tree nor had a meltdown of epic proportions, but I had refused to fully participate in foreign traditions. I had scoffed at family pictures with color coordinating attire and stringing colorful popcorn garland with cheesy Christmas carols playing in the background.

Celebrating holidays and occasions with the Dywer family had become easier with each year.

However, my birthdays were still off limits. It just wasn't the same without Dad there trying steer me away from the places where he stuck his finger in the icing.

My high was rapidly becoming a low, so I turned away from my Ghost of Christmas Past. I started daydreaming about dinner with Edward and what it would mean for the future. And then I got acute anxiety.

What if we struggled for conversation? It was usually easy to talk to him, but what if we couldn't talk to each other on command? Would we feel obligated to fill the awkward silences with small talk? I hoped not; I hated small talk.

Was asking about the status of our relationship a no-no on a first date? Were we supposed to play it cool and let things play out naturally? He asked me to dinner, does that mean that the ball was in my court? Was I responsible for taking the next step? I wasn't sure I could do that.

Oh, my god. I had no idea how to date! Sure, I'd gone out to dinners with my boyfriend before, but that was just it – the guy was already my boyfriend. One day he was a friend, the next he was my boyfriend. Dinner-and-movie dates, making out and PDA were kind of expected. So… what the heck did that mean for Edward and me? Were we to treat this like a friend date or a something-more date? Do we hold hands? Kiss at the end of the night? Make out like the horny teenagers we were?

What if he didn't think things were going to work out between us and I thought otherwise? Holy Hell! This date could ruin the progress we've made in the friendship department!

Gah! Why does dating have to be so hard?

I probably should have been paying more attention to my surroundings rather than watching the floor for puddles or reminiscing about the past or over-thinking the future, but I've walked this route before without any problems.

There weren't many people on the sidewalk. It was only four o'clock, but Seattle was quickly losing daylight and the little heat that came with it. If people didn't absolutely have to be out here, they weren't. The misty drizzle began changing into a light shower in the blink of an eye.

I walked on, oblivious to the world around me. I didn't have my guard up because shit like getting mugged or assaulted by a stranger on the street just didn't happen to me. Fuck, it never occurred to me that it was even a possibility.

A reflexive reaction to a tug on my shopping bags was to hold on tighter. I should have let go.

A cold, rough hand clamped over my mouth. The other arm snaked around my chest, trapping both upper arms to my torso. I was dragged backwards into an alley. I dropped my umbrella and shopping bags to fend off my attacker. I scratched and kicked whatever I could reach, hoping my struggle would set me free or at least allow me to scream for help, but it was in vain because he seemed not to feel any pain.

My eyes frantically scanned the sidewalk for pedestrians before he pulled me deeper into an alleyway. The few people walking around were lost in their own worlds, not noticing someone in dire need of help. Drivers were focused on the slick road beneath them, adamant on making it to their destinations unharmed.

He loosened his hold on me when I could no longer see the street I had walked along not ten seconds ago. My survival instincts took it as an opportunity to get away. I elbowed him in the stomach and pushed him to the ground. He recovered faster than I had anticipated; he grabbed the end of my cross body messenger bag and yanked hard. I choked and forcefully fell backwards. I landed on my tail bone and slammed my back against the ground. The strap felt like a tightened noose around my neck and I struggled to loosen it, which was no easy feat as he was still tightly clutching my bag in his hands. He yanked it off my body and threw it aside.

My lungs refused to expand. I resorted to taking rapid shallow breaths that seemed to be doing more harm than good; it just made my chest feel tighter and my head feel lighter. Disoriented, I stared up at the patch of sky between the tall buildings, trying to breathe as the rain continued to fall.

"Please…" I rasped. "Take whatever you want. Please don't hurt me," I begged from my spot on the floor, still looking up at the sky. In this position, I felt even more exposed and vulnerable to the whims of a lunatic. My heart continued to beat faster than a hummingbird's.

He stepped into my line of sight, towering over me with a sadistic smirk on his face. My eyes tried to focus on his face, but a baseball cap was pulled low. I could make out the tip of his nose, thin lips and yellowed teeth.

I flinched when he reached down and grabbed me by my hair. I was still trying to recover from my fall, still trying to catch a full breath.

He was met with no resistance from me as he slammed my aching body against a concrete wall.

"Please… Plea—" My throat closed up and my words turned into a weak sob.

"Feisty… I like that," He whispered gravelly into my ear. He took my hair out of the elastic and ran his fingers through it. He buried his nose into my hair and inhaled while his free hand ran up and down my outer thigh. I felt dirty and helpless and disgusting.

"No!" I croaked out, struggling against his hold.

"Brought this on ya'self, sweetcheeks," he whispered, running his hand over my ass. "I was jus' gon' take your shit and go. But it turns me on when bitches try to fight back. Why whack off when I can bury my dick inside your warm pussy?" His hand stopped exploring my body and I let out a shaky breath. It turned into a whimper when I felt the cool steel of a gun barrel pressing up against the bottom of my chin.

"Make a peep and I'll blow your fucking brains all over the fucking wall. Got me?"

I nodded hysterically and then screwed my eyes shut. How the hell was I supposed to protect myself from a bullet? I tried to blend into the wall when I felt his hand restart his exploration. His rough fingers raked against the bare skin of my stomach. His thumb dipped below the waist of my jeans. He bent his knees and pushed his erection in between my legs.

"No… stop! Stop!" I begged. Loud sobs broke free from my mouth. I struggled to keep it shut when he pressed the gun harder into my skin and cocked it. I fought to breathe deeply. The steady rain mixed with my tears and blurred my vision.

"What I say about that shit?"

"I'm… I'm sor-ry… sorry…" I cried.

"You gon' be a good lil' bitch and obey me?" He asked.

"Yes," I squeaked fearfully.

"Mmm… good girl," he breathed into my ear. My stomach heaved when I felt his dry tongue lick the shell of my ear. "Face the wall."

I did as he ordered on shaky legs. My knees buckled and I held onto a metal pipe for support. I pressed my cheek flat against the chilly wall as his gun dug into my side.

His hand snaked around my waist before crawling up beneath my cotton top. My mind conjured up the smell of Esme's freshly baked brownies; the childish giggles shared between Alice, Edward and I as we started out top-secret adventures; Christmas morning in the Swan house. I tried to block out his roaming hands and the sound of my zipper being undone. I tried to go somewhere safe, to a happier, simpler time before ridicule, loneliness and loss ruled my world. A time when every scrape, bruise and cut could be healed with a kiss and ice cream. A time when everything could be fixed with a simple "I'm sorry."

The weight of his body abruptly left mine. I cringed and tried not to imagine him whipping it out of his pants. Two seconds later, I heard ten distinct pops. I watched enough TV to know those were gunshots. I waited for the pain to overtake my senses, to pull me into oblivion. How could someone survive ten shots in point blank range? I sank to the floor, feeling nothing but the biting cold. Maybe my body was too much in shock to register pain and I was steadily bleeding out. I didn't know how much time had elapsed; it could have an hour or a minute.

"No!" I rasped when I felt forceful arms pick me up from my curled state on the floor. Just let me die in peace.

"Alright… alright… calm down," he said. My head was buried in my arms, but he sounded close. I screwed my eyes shut and cowered further into the wall.

"Fuck! He's gone… Is she okay?" Another voice asked. Oh god, please don't tell me he brought friends.

"Uh… I'm not sure. Paul?"

"He's taking it better than I thought… trying to get Nina to stop crying. Ambulance should be here soon."

Silence. With my head buried behind my arms, I couldn't see either of them. But the sloshing footsteps indicated at least one of them had walked away.

"Are you alright?" The first guy had walked off, leaving me alone with the second.

"We're not gonna hurt you," he added softly, trying to elicit a response from me. "The police will be here any minute. How 'bout we get you off that floor, it's cold out here."

There was something in his voice that made me trust him. I lifted my head minutely and peeked just above my arms to see a dark-colored jacket being held out to me. I shivered violently, only now noticing that my coat was soaked and my clothes were well on their way to the same condition. With my eyes firmly pointed toward the concrete floor, I began pushing myself up.

"Fucking hell!" The guy exclaimed. He immediately came at me with the jacket.

"I'm sorry! I'm sorry!" I cried, assuming he was angry with my sluggish movement. Perhaps that bit about wanting to help me was a ruse to make me more compliant. I collapsed back to the ground and brought my arms up to protect myself from any blows he deemed appropriate.

"Christ, Bella, I'm sorry! I shouldn't have come at you like that."

I said nothing in return.

"Bella?"

I flinched. He sounded much closer than before. Every muscle in my body tensed when I felt his finger gently brush wet hair away from my forehead. Once again, my breathing accelerated, as did my heart rate.

"Bella, it's me, Tyler." He spoke softly and calmly as if trying to soothe a frightened child.

I knew that name; I searched my memories for the face than went with it. After everything clicked into place – his voice, his name, the familiarity of my shortened name on his tongue – I raised my head to confirm what I was thinking.

"Tyler?" I squeaked, choking on my oncoming tears.

"Yeah…" he whispered, abruptly engulfing me into a wet hug. I immediately shook off his embrace and cowered into the wall. His face was a cross between understanding and hurt. He hadn't put his jacket back on and was now soaked to the bone. In fact, he had wrapped his leather jacket around my shoulders as soon as he let go.

"I… I…" I stuttered, trying to get my breathing under control. I cried instead.

"Shh… it's okay. You're safe now. You're safe," he promised. "Are you hurt anywhere?" He asked, searching for visible signs of injury. "Did he…" he trailed off, not wanting to finish the sentence.

I shook my head and immediately regretted it. "My head…" I moaned. It felt as if it was splitting in half. I was dizzy. I had to vomit. I was sure I was on my way to seeing double.

"Slow down… take deep breaths."

I did. And then I retched. Leaning to the opposite side of Tyler, I bowed my head and spewed my meager Caesar salad lunch into a puddle. I heaved until nothing but the bile from the pit of my stomach poured from my mouth.

Tyler helped me to my feet. The sound of multiple sirens grew louder and louder. Not wanting to be touched, I insisted on walking out of the alley on my own two unsteady legs. Of course, Tyler refused anything less than carrying me out bridal style like a damsel in distress. I visibly cringed at the suggestion.

We compromised. I grudgingly accepted his assistance after I felt my stiff muscles protest to any movement. He wrapped an arm around my waist and guided me into a standing position. I tried not to pull away.

Many first responder vehicles had just arrived. Some officers rushed to secure the scene in the alley while others began canvassing the area. Two officers whisked Tyler and me out of the alley and left us in the care of a pair of EMTs. Reports of shots fired in a commercial district of downtown Seattle on a Saturday afternoon and so close to the holidays probably put pressure on brass to get this case wrapped up.

The bright flashing lights made my head want to explode, but at least they had cut off the sirens. Bystanders had crowded both sides of the street; their natural curiosity compelling them to stay put, to wait for the drama to unfold. Many stood with cell phones in their hands, no doubt updating their statuses on Facebook or tweeting or capturing video to later upload to their blogs. With that many cruisers and ambulances gathered on one street, who wouldn't be nosy?

The carelessness my attacker had displayed with his gun had severely injured two people and killed one, thus devastating many.

EMTs were beginning to load Tyler's brother, Paul, into the back of their rig. Tyler told me that he had taken a bullet to the upper shoulder. No exit wound, so he would need surgery to remove the bullet. A sobbing red head climbed in after them. It looked as though he was consoling her instead of the other way around.

A few EMTs were working on an unconscious middle-aged man who was still lying on the floor. They were frantically trying to staunch the blood flow from his torso.

But the one that really broke my heart was the little blond girl wearing a purple raincoat and matching rain boots. Officers did their best to keep prying eyes away from her, but I saw her. And there was no way to erase that image from my mind.

The little girl's dad was stoic, but there was devastation in his face and emptiness in his eyes. He held his fast-crumbling _pregnant_ wife close as she wailed loudly into his chest. Their hands and clothes were soiled; presumably with their daughter's blood. _Parents aren't supposed to bury their children._

Their little girl wasn't going home. Their little girl didn't have a future. She died there on the sidewalk near the alley I had come out of. Her blood had poured out of the gunshot wound in her neck and stained her blond hair, as well as the sidewalk, red.

All of that could have been avoided if I had just handed everything over.

I continually tested the patience of the tall, dark and handsome EMT attending to my medical needs by removing the oxygen mask he shoved onto my face. I kept insisting that I could breathe on my own. For the last time, he firmly but nicely ordered me to keep it on.

I realized my stupidity – arguing with an objective, trained medical professional – when I found that the tightness in my chest began to ease. However, the intensifying throb in my head and my unrelenting bunched muscles continued to be a problem.

After finally removing the mask, he asked me questions pertaining to my health and injuries.

Was I on medication? No, I answered as he unraveled the blood pressure cuff from my arm.

Allergies? Was pollen included in that question?

Was I pregnant? No. Why, do I look pregnant?

On a scale of one to ten – ten being the worst – how much does it hurt when he did this or that? Two. One. Two. Five.

How's my breathing? Better.

I followed his finger to the right with my eyes, but winced when I felt a sharp pain behind them. He blinded me with his light pen and I flinched away from it. He suggested I go to the hospital, just in case. I refused. I wasn't raped. I didn't hit my head that hard. I wasn't mortally wounded; just some scrapes and bruises – nothing I couldn't handle on my own.

Since my injuries weren't fatal, he couldn't drag me kicking and screaming to the nearest hospital. He made me promise to at least see a doctor sometime soon before he let the cops come near me.

After briefly speaking with a friend, Tyler had returned to my side. He was followed by a pair of suits; detectives I assumed. They flashed their badges and introduced themselves as Detectives Warren and Dodge. Detective Warren was kind of bitch, but it could be that she was absolutely blunt in her questioning. No segue into touchy topics or a soothing voice. Her voice was sharp and her questions were to the point; she must be damn good at closing cases because she had zero people skills. She was tall, brunette and two-hundred percent intimidating.

Detective Dodge struck me as more empathetic; more in tune with human emotions. Surprisingly, the stressful job didn't touch his full head of thick hair. He seemed more attuned to hang back and observe, giving his partner free reign over questioning. Still, he had decided that Det. Warren's rapid-fire question strategy was not helpful; Det. Dodge took over for his partner.

Det. Warren narrowed her eyes when Tyler kept insisting that I should go home to rest and regroup. If it wasn't for the tiny people in my head killing the shit out of my brain with pickaxes, I would've disagreed with him.

"Miss Swan, may I remind you that an eight-year-old girl is lying on the sidewalk with a hole in her neck?"

"Of course I remem—" I started. She cut me off.

"We want to catch this guy as quickly as possible. I understand that you went through a traumatic event, but you were the only one who saw this guy up close and personal. It would help if we had a description. I would think that you would want your attacker… this _child murderer_ off the streets ASAP."

Way to pull off the guilt-trip, lady. I mentally added one more characteristic to Det. D.D. Warren: she got her way no matter the circumstances. Det. Warren called an officer over to escort me to a cruiser. Tyler insisted on taking me.

Out of habit, I reached for my purse, but stopped when I realized I didn't have it with me. I panicked and started towards the alley.

"My… I have to go get my bag," I explained helplessly after Det. Warren stopped me. Her eyes softened a bit.

"Sweetie, it's not there."

"Yes, it is. He threw it aside after... I saw him do it. It's there. I just have to look for it."

"The officers didn't find your bag," she slowly explained, waiting for me to catch on.

I did. This murderer now had my ID and keys. He knows where I live and has a way to get in. Motherfucking shit… this day sucked balls.

"Do you have anyone you can stay with?" Det. Dodge asked.

"Yes."

"She can stay with me," Tyler informed us. I wasn't, but I didn't feel like arguing at the moment.

:::

"He was wearing a baseball cap, pulled low. I didn't see his face clearly," I mumbled.

"What color was it?" Officer Hanley asked. She was Kristen Bell's doppelganger who was in charge of rendering a picture of the suspect based solely on my recollection. I guess the original title would be "sketch artist." However, she wasn't working with pencils and paper; a few big city precincts had gone high-tech, using computer programs to create a composite of a suspect.

We were set up in a conference room. The glossy onyx table and black mesh ergonomic chairs took up most of the space. The white venetian blinds were closed to give us some privacy; it only served to make me feel like a "person of interest" in an ongoing investigation.

This precinct was vastly different from what I had been used to. For one thing, the building made Forks PD look like a half-assed shack built by a couple of amateur contractors. FPD smelled like gourmet coffee freshly and baked goods. The 18th precinct of SPD smelled like burned coffee and antiseptic. In Forks, officers greeted me with a smile. Here, they pretty much ignored you unless you were their responsibility or causing trouble.

"Isabella?" OFC Hanley asked kindly.

"Dark… it was a dark color. But, that could just be from the rain. Uh… there was a design on it. I can't remember what it was."

"Can you remember the shape of his jaw or chin?"

"His chin was pointy. Jaw was slender, uh, not much definition… a little wider. It looked like he hadn't shaved in a couple of days."

She made the appropriate adjustments, making the faceless man eerily familiar.

"What about his lips?"

I unwillingly closed my eyes and conjured his image in my mind. A bitter chill ran through me as I remembered what had snaked through his lips and touched my ear.

"…Thin, he didn't have that, uh, what do people call it? A Cupid's bow?"

And so it continued until an hour and a half later when we had a 95% complete composite. The only thing missing were the eyes.

Every time I had gotten close to panicking, OFC Hanley would go off topic and ask questions completely unrelated to the task at hand. She had explained to me that it was easier to remember things when we weren't being pressured into it. It also helped to keep the eyewitness calm, so they wouldn't concoct an even more sinister image in their minds. _People tend to exaggerate_, she had told me, _thus causing an inaccurate rendering._ I understood what she was saying. How were the police supposed to look for a person who looked like the devil incarnate when in reality, the person looked like the average friendly neighborhood shopkeeper?

Detective Warren walked into the conference room while I stared at the copy of the picture I had requested.

"Patrol's gonna sit on your building in case the guy is stupid enough to swing by. If you think of anything else, don't hesitate to call," she said, handing me a contact card. "And don't worry, we'll get him."

:::

"Can you take me home, please?"

"Bella, I don't think that's a good idea."

"My friends live across the hall. Maybe they'll let me stay with them for a while."

"That still doesn't mean it's a good idea."

"Tyler, please, I just want a little normalcy. If I can't sleep in my own bed then I'm sure as Hell gonna stay in my own building! I'm not gonna let some psychopath run me out of my home!" I ranted. In the small car, it seemed louder than it really was.

"Okay, sorry. I'll take you home," he said, trying to placate me.

We parked curbside since the only way to get into the parking garage was to use the keycard that was still in my wallet. I shivered as a particularly strong gust of wind tore down the street. Tyler promised that he would take care of my soaked coat, so I was grateful for Tyler's over-sized leather jacket.

Before we had headed to the station, Tyler had switched his cold, wet shirt with a dry and relatively warm pullover Paul had stashed in his car. So, I took comfort in the knowledge that he wasn't freezing his ass off.

The doorman greeted us in his usual jovial manner. I responded with a halfhearted smile. An understandable look of concern crossed his face; even on my bad days, I had greeted him with more enthusiasm.

Tyler and I rode the elevator in silence. He was fidgety while I was as still as a statue, watching the floors numbers increase as we ascended. The elevator dinged and the steel doors slid open.

"I'm supposed to be on a date right now… maybe sharing a dessert with him. I was supposed to be dressed up and pretty, but instead I look like a miserable drowned rat."

"I'm sorry," he said, not knowing anything else to say. "And you don't look like a drowned rat. You look beautiful… smeared makeup and all."

I scoffed at that and said, "he's gonna think I stood him up."

"He'll understand…"

"What if he won't give me a chance to explain?"

"You don't owe him an explanation."

"He's been waiting, without one word from me, for the last two hours. He deserves to know what hap—Edward!" I gasped in surprise, jumping a little. After the day I've had, you can't fault me for being jumpy. Tyler protectively wrapped an arm around me. I tried not to flinch. "Oh… you… you scared me." My voice and body trembled from unnecessary fear. He didn't say a word.

"I'm sorry," I apologized, knowing he wanted some kind of explanation. "I… I was" –being violated—"I just…" I choked on my words as my mind flashed back to the smell of stale cigarette smoke and beer, the feel of rough fingertips.

"You alright?" Tyler asked as he rubbed my arm in what he thought was a soothing manner. I really wished that he would stop touching me. He probably thought that he was helping. However, I still couldn't help but shy away from his touch a little bit.

"Who the hell are you?" Edward asked, his voice tinged with anger.

"Tyler… just wanted to make sure Bella made it up alright," he responded in a clipped voice.

My traitorous mind decided it was the perfect time to replay the "traumatic event," as Det. Warren called it. I could feel his calloused hands on my skin; the weight of his body on my own; the feel of his breath slither across my cheek before he licked my ear. I could hear his low, gravelly voice telling me he'd paint the wall with gray matter if I made a sound. My eyes burned with tears until they spilled over and gravity took over.

"Bella, what…" Edward started.

I opened my mouth to give him an answer. He deserved one; he looked really stressed out. But, all I could think about was scrubbing every inch of my body raw. He walked away from me. Again.

"Oh, fuck that! I'm gonna kick his ass," Tyler growled. He followed after Edward. I followed Tyler.

"Look, you selfish little—" Tyler started.

"Who the fuck are you to come in here and—" Edward exclaimed, whirling around to face Tyler.

"Stop," I grumbled.

"—shit, you have no idea—"

"—run your fucking mouth? Get the—"

"—what she's been through, so—"

"—fuck out of here or I'm breaking your goddamn face!"

"—don't go around assuming shit!"

"Stop it!" I yelled. Their shouting match triggered another headache. Regardless of the thick walls, I was sure our neighbors heard every word. "Tyler, thank you, but I'm fine now. You should get to the hospital and find out about your brother."

"Are you sure? You know you're always welcome at my place. You don't have to stay here… with him." He said as he glared over at Edward. Edward glowered back.

"I'll be fine, really," I replied softly, removing his jacket from my shoulders. He told me I could borrow it. Edward scoffed.

"You'll call me later?"

"Sure," I responded.

"Don't be an asshole," he spat at Edward. With that he left the condo and began his journey to the ground floor.

"Where the hell were you?"

_Where shall I begin?_

* * *

**A/N: I told some of you that this was going to be a monster of a chapter, but I decided to split it. I thought that most readers would probably lose interest if the chapter went on with 10,000 more words.**

**Thank you for reading and reviewing the last chapter. And thank you to those reviewers who politely told me to get my ass into gear, I definitely needed it.**

***Detective D.D. Warren and Detective Bobby Dodge belong to Lisa Gardner. Mrs. Gardner had always described Det. Warren as blond, but I had always pictured Angie Harmon from _Rizzoli & Isles_.**

**I turned 25 yesterday *heavy sigh* Yep. I plan on drinking myself silly this weekend, but I WILL post the second part of the chapter no later than Thursday. You can harass me if I don't.**

**Even though I am shitty at updating, I'd LOVE it if you left me a birthday gift in the form of a review.**

**Thanks for reading!**


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